White Hair, Red Eyes, and a Pack of Lies
by Ever-changing Creation
Summary: A story, in which a mercenary-for-hire, not-kunoichi runs into a hell of a lot of important characters through her existence. Shiroi may or may not also be bullshitting her way through life, and may or may not be a girl. It's hard to call her out on it, when she can summon fire-breathing hellhounds. (Semi SI-OC, non-chronological, 3rd person POV. Rated M for later chapters.)
1. Roshi: Death

Semi SI-OC story, because I have too many ideas, and thought "why the hell not?". If I'm joining the dark side, I might as well throw my stuff out there.

This starts out chronologically, but after the third chapter, I'll just be writing whatever interactions with canon characters come to mind.

* * *

Roshi: Death

* * *

Roshi laid in wait, carefully, in the underbrush. Every breath was slow, methodical, as he tampered down on his chakra signature. A squadron of fellow Iwa nin hid themselves in formation, a few meters behind him.

In the red-haired man's wake, was the sight of a small village. Murasaki Village, just thirty miles from Kannabi Bridge. A basic settlement, near the border of the lands of Grass and Fire.

A prime place to target, to push Iwagakure's forces through and into the Land of Fire. Closer to their goal of Konohagakure.

It was currently in the middle of the Third Shinobi War. There was no room for error, or softness, when in war.

Murasaki Village will have to be destroyed, as all the people within it. Even women, children, and the elderly.

That was one sacrifice, amongst many others, that would be made. No matter if the Land of Grass was a neutral place, stuck between so many titans of the ninja world, and truly didn't deserve to be invaded and destroyed. Annihilated, thrown to the wayside, just so forces could get to another target past them…

No. The man shook his head, his mane of hair bobbing. He couldn't start doubting himself, doubting his orders, doubting the entire damn war. Rock's forces were already bulldozing straight through Grass. No use backing out now.

Raising a hand, he gave a signal to his squad to move in. In a pulse of chakra, the figures body-flickered into the village.

A few hand seals later, and dozens of people were already crushed under the debris of caved-in buildings.

It was sickeningly easy, destroying the village. Land of Grass generally made their houses of light materials—timber, hay, coats of mud, dried grasses woven together.

It was even easier to burn it. All he'd had to do was form a bit of chakra within his mouth, and spit a projectile of lava onto a house's roof. Since many of the settlements were connected, the fire spread from one woven hut, to the next.

In a whirlwind of ashes and rubble, Murasaki village was no more.

Feeling detached, the Jinchuriki body-flickered to the previous meeting point of his squadron, waiting for his subordinates. A minute later, they returned. All but one.

"Where's Rantetsu?" the squadron leader asked, voice gruff. He surveyed each of his squad members. The youngest and cockiest—a boy who barely scrapped by as a teenager, and a Chunin—was notably absent.

"Dead, Roshi-taichou," answered the next in command. "I found his body collapsed outside a house, near the Western edge of the village. Stabbed through the heart from behind."

"Did you find who killed him…?" Roshi asked, brow furrowing. A mere civilian wouldn't be able to kill a Chunin, no matter how young or arrogant said Chunin was.

He didn't think there'd be any shinobi in this back-waters place. There **shouldn't** be.

The rest of the squad shook their heads. The Jinchuriki was hit by the sudden realization that there wasn't a sensor **or** tracker in their damn squad. Their squadron was sent to the front lines to hit hard and fast, with good combat specialists.

It was the exact reason why they'd made him **lead** said squad—those that contained beasts within them had great power. Perfect for mass-scale destruction. But not for much else.

"We'll fan out and search the West, for ten minutes. We can't waste any more time than that; it'll have to do," Roshi ordered curtly. A few nods, and the squadron was off.

Along the way, the ninja killed a few survivors stumbling out of the rubble with well-thrown kunai and shuriken. It did not matter if they were wailing children, or weak-footed young men and women who were burned to crisps or missing limbs. They were all obstacles.

Rantetsu's body was rather distinctive, amongst the rubble and dead civilians. His ninja clothing and hitai-ate were flashy, contrasting against the simple, dull colors surrounding his corpse.

Roshi idly wondered what he would tell the boy's family. Perhaps not much. Casualties were common in war, especially the young greenhorns that were thrown out into the battlefield to fill the ranks.

Perhaps the death of Rantetsu will scare away his younger brother, Gantetsu, from the path of shinobi. Perhaps it will only fuel the brat into becoming stronger, so he will not fall, like his brother.

In all honesty, a thirteen year old shouldn't have been thrown into this squad, for this mission. But the boy was said to have been very good at demolition, despite not having the kekkei genkai, or even being a part of the Explosion Corps.

The search around the building and nearby foliage didn't turn up any clues. Any footprints were lost under the ash and rubble. A lost cause, and waste of time.

Except…In a nearby home that Roshi passed he…felt something.

The man paused. He tried to strain his senses.

There. A chakra signature. Small and feeble, but—alive.

A shift in the rubble. A small, almost silent rasp. A glint of red eyes and red-tinted steel.

A small child was hiding under the collapsed, smoking building. She stared up at him with wide crimson eyes, full of emotion. Fear—but also determination, hatred, grimness, maturity, and sheer bullheadedness.

"Roshi-taichou…?" asked one of his subordinates, from two huts down.

One more second of staring quietly at the pale-featured child—skin and hair as white as moonlight—and then the bearded man turned away.

"We've eliminated Murasaki Village. All survivors are most likely dying from injuries and the smoke—if not, by starvation from being trapped under the rubble. Let's move out, to our next target," he spoke calmly and firmly.

He ignored the look boring into his back, from the small girl hidden under the collapsed woven structure.

He should have killed her. Put her out of her misery. Taken revenge for his comrade, Rantetsu—because this little girl was the one who killed him, he'd realized, taking into account the height of the boy's fatal wound, and the bloodied knife clutched in the girl's hands.

This little wisp of a girl was a ghost of death, that should be snuffed out. There should be no logical reason for him to leave her alive.

And yet…

And yet, he did.

Maybe he was just…sick of the death. Sick of killing children, and leading children to die. Sick of killing the weak, when he was meant to protect them.

Maybe he didn't kill the girl, and ushered his squadron away from Murasaki Village, because he could respect the child's strength and tenacity. She killed a mid-ranked ninja with just a plain kitchen knife—then was intelligent enough to escape her home, use the nearby destruction as camouflage, and escaped the notice of the ninja that came and decimated her entire village.

The girl was already at rock bottom. Her existence had been completely and utterly destroyed. All she had left was a dead village, and her own life.

Let's see how she comes from this, then…How much of a survivor she is.

Hell, for all he knows, she'll be an enjoyable opponent to fight, when she's older.

…That'll be his excuse for being soft and not putting the child out of her misery, when he had the chance, and he's sticking to it.


	2. Jiraiya: Brat

Thank you for the reviews, favorites, follows, etc. I'll be updating this fic at least weekly, but decided to have two chapters up this week to get things rolling.

Gantetsu is a real character in Naruto (a missing-nin from Iwa), but he didn't have a brother named Rantetsu. I just threw that into the last chapter, for the dramaz.

In this chapter, it's all about our lovable Toad Safe.

* * *

Jiraiya: Brat

* * *

Other villages are getting bolder, with their skirmishes between borders. The War is here, but from which side will the attack on Konoha come from…?

That's the question the Toad Sage has to try to find the answer for. It's the reason why he's not on the home front, right now, helping the war effort for Konoha in that way. He's out and traveling discreetly, cashing in favors, and perusing his spy network.

When he passes through the neutral territory of Grass, he notices the stark difference. The place is in a rough spot, having been used as a gateway and battleground by many nations already.

But will it hold clues to what front Konoha must strengthen themselves from…?

Jiraiya passes through Kannabi Bridge. Notes its value for a tactical standpoint. Goes on through, thinking of visiting some of the outer towns before actually going anywhere near Kusagakure proper. Can't make it seem like he's blatantly trying to gather information or allegiances; the Kusakage will definitely take that the wrong way.

Kusa is built on neutrality. Business **depends** on them being on even terms with all lands and nations. But, it also has its drawbacks, with many factions going to it for favors. With how Grass can't have proper allies to help defend itself from certain factions, because that would make it look like they're picking sides.

He plans to pass through the tiny, backwater Murasaki Village to get to a bigger hotspot for gossip for his spy network.

Except, he has to stop straight in Murasaki Village. Because the place is in complete and utter **ruins**.

Earth and fire jutsu damage are prevalent in the buildings and streets. Iwagakure…? Or could it be Kirigakure with their kekkei genkai users, trying to shake the trail of suspicion, and pin it on Iwa?

Too many questions, not enough information.

No survivors of the attack. Lots of bodies buried under rubble. Valuables are suspiciously gone—bandits? Looters? Had that been the reason of the attack? Or was it simply an effect to seeing a destroyed village, ripe for the picking?

There is a lack of weapons around the decaying corpses. The attackers could have taken them back, or stabbed and ran. Maybe looters came in and took them later on, but it's also suspicious.

Perhaps there were survivors, who had escaped. Took weapons and valuables and food, and were off.

This was all conjecture, of course. No one he could ask to confirm the damn event; no one alive, at least.

Jiraiya is much more cautious, when he travels through Grass. The next village straight north is also in ruins. He goes East, and sees this village is fine.

The Sannin goes and passes through many other villages—some large, some small. It's almost like someone tried to take a battering ram, straight through Grass, almost in a completely straight line.

It's coming from either Iwagakure or Kumogakure's fronts. But would Onoki or Ay really be stupid enough to be so blatant as this…?

Possible. Both Kages are hotheaded. Can't discount any possibility.

* * *

Jiraiya hovers at a village next to Grass's Capitol. He doesn't want to waltz straight to the daimyo, and the main congregation of business in Grass. So, this place will have to do, for intel-gathering, before he dives straight in like some sort of **amateur**.

The Red Light District is the best place to start. It always is. The place lives off of secrets, anonymity, and bribery. People that live there are savvy and know what's **really** important.

Plus, no one would think twice, if he goes there, with the reputation he's built up. No one will look twice, at the Super Pervert visiting a brothel.

But Jiraiya didn't account for being accosted by a little, bedraggled girl in an alley, along the way.

Pale skin. Red eyes. White hair an almost exact shade as **his**.

Oh Sage, please don't tell him this little brat is—

"Jiraiya-sama. Please teach me to be strong, like a ninja," she states seriously, eyes and voice as hard as stone.

Okay, so maybe—hopefully—she isn't a bastard child of his. That's…good.

He gives an exaggerated bout of laughter. "Bwahaha! Little girl, I, the great Sannin Jiraiya, can't just teach random little girls how to be as cool a ninja as me! Go on home and—"

"I have no home. It was destroyed by Iwa ninja," she states bluntly. Her voice was thick with cold fury, like a blizzard.

He can't help but hide a wince. Okay, so this girl was orphaned, and has probably seen some shit and—

Oh. Wait. That was a confirmation of the ninja that bulldozed straight through some of those Grass villages.

"How did you know what type of ninja they were, girl…?" he asks flippantly, taking a swig from a cheap sake bottle in his hand. Giving **just** enough interest and attention to make the girl spill her guts, but not too much to be overtly suspicious or creepy.

"I saw the symbol on one of their hitai-ate's," the little girl responds, making a distinct pattern in the air. "Murasaki Village may have been small, but I **know** the symbols of the different Shinobi Nations. It was **definitely** Iwa."

Jiraiya raises his eyebrows, feeling somewhat intrigued, but still trying to project an air of skepticism. "Kid, I can't just teach any random orphan how to be a ninja. I've got stuff to do."

Oh, and how hypocritical he was, to say so to this little street rat of a girl, who's lived through her entire village being destroyed and looted, probably in front of her very eyes. Especially considering he taught those three orphans in Amegakure—Konan, Yahiko, and Nagato.

"Not if I was your daughter…?"

He freezes mid-step. Whirls around, and scrutinizes her coldly. Her little face is blank, no emotion detected.

She simply points at her white hair. "Not a very common color to be born with, Sir. Very distinctive."

"Just because we were born with the same hair, doesn't mean we're father and daughter!" he says, pointing a finger at her face. "That's not how it works, brat!"

"I've never had a father," she refutes, jutting her chin out, arms crossed. "Mother said my father knocked her up, and left her."

Okay, yeah, that definitely sounds like his modus operandi. But, shit, knocking up women sort of came with the job, and helped keep his persona. Jiraiya's been able to avoid having a bastard child being shoved into his care so far, and he's not going to fall into that pit trap **now**.

Plus, there's no **guarantee** of her being his kid. Naturally white hair is more common in the shinobi forces, than civilians would think.

"That could be anyone!" he refutes, making an 'x' with his arms. "Nuh, uh—I'm not buying it. Too bad, squirt, but you're on your own on this."

He tries to step back, but the little urchin gets a firm grip on one of his baggy sleeves. "I don't need much schooling. I can read and write, and know almost all basic subjects. I've unlocked my chakra. I have weapons training."

A prodigy? Could explain why she was smart enough to escape her village being destroyed.

But, that doesn't mean he will take her as a student. Children were a burden. And he didn't have **time** to train her. He can't make that mistake again, not when Tsunade-hime left and he wasn't **there** for her—

Shit, she was around the age of Sakumo's little brat, Kakashi. The kid who's apprenticed under Minato.

Tamper down the pity, tamper down the emotions, tamper it all down and put it away to never see the light of day—

"Just go to Kusagakure and learn in their ninja Academy, if you're so damn smart!" he growls, trying to shake her off. The girl manages to hold a firm grip.

"I don't want to be a ninja. Just to be strong," she says, voice raising pitch, panic in her eyes. "I **can't** be a ninja, when a war's coming so soon! Please, all I need is just a bit more help, and I could take care of myself…!"

Jiraiya hisses through grit teeth. If he can't dislodge her soon, she'll convince him fully.

Because, **damn** it, she's right. A war was coming, and if she went and graduated from Kusa's ninja Academy, she'll just be thrown straight into the front lines.

"Okay, let's make a deal," he sighs, rubbing at his temples with his unoccupied hand. "Since you can read, and you're so advanced, I'll just…Give you books and scrolls about the subjects you need to know, alright? You don't have to go to Kusa's Academy to learn, to become an official ninja. Just…Become self-taught."

The grip on his sleeve slackens. He yanks away from the child, who's staring up at him with a calculating look that reminds him of Oro-teme and—

By the Sage, he **really** hopes the snake bastard doesn't get his claws on this little girl. She's too smart for her own good.

"Will…That really work? Will that be enough?" the pale child demands, eyes glaring up at him. Jiraiya is put under the uncomfortable sensation of being scrutinized by the Sharingan, despite her eyes being plain, without any tomoe patterns. Almost like the Yuuhi Clan's eyes…

"Some samurai and mercenaries have been known to do that," he responds. "If you don't want to be a full-fledged ninja, but still be strong enough to survive out here…It's your best chance."

The girl's eyes turn dark, as she gains a look of contemplation. After a few seconds, she curtly nods her head. "That seems logical. I will be eternally grateful for any materials and wisdom you may depart on me, Jiraiya-sama."

She bows lowly to him. If she wasn't in such dirty, boyish clothing, he could almost imagine her being a princess from the daimyo's court. She could be incredibly polite, and had good posture.

But maybe that was his narcissism talking, comparing her to a princess. She **did** share his hair color, after all.

"Sure, sure, whatever," he waves her off lazily. "I'll give you a few copies of things I have. Then, we'll travel to the Capitol, to get a few other things."

"I will be traveling with you, Sir…?" the girl asks curiously, expression edging on suspicion.

"It'll only be until we get to the Capitol, and I get you the materials," he huffed, feeling offended at her wariness. "Hey, I'll even be generous, and buy you new clothes, and supplies for…Whatever you decide to do, after all this. As long as it'll get you rid of me after I give you the scrolls."

"Ah," she states, mouth titled slightly upwards. "That sounds…Much more appropriate."

"What do you take me for?" he gapes, feeling even more wounded when she stays utterly silent, giving him a pointed stare. "I may be the Super Pervert, but I have **standards**! Only mature women are for me—not little runts!"

"You are truly a classy man, Sir," she deadpans. "Such a wealth of knowledge."

"Hey, hey—Don't be so ungrateful!" he grouses, feeling a pout form on his lips.

"I am not—I'm very much for your help and generosity," she says calmly. "It would be…much harder, to become strong, if I do not gain enough knowledge and supplies. You are doing much for me, in that aspect."

"…Whatever," he states, tampering down a sigh. He was still soft, wanting to go so far for this little brat...

"Look, I need to stay here for at least another day or two. **Then** , we can go to the Capitol. You can just pose as my…daughter, until then," he explains, cringing at the thought of posing as a father. "But if you're going to be my daughter, you're going to have to look clean! So, off to a bath, with you!"

"Yes, Sir," she responds.

"And don't think I'm going to have to bathe you myself!" He **really** did not want to come off as a pedophile…

"I will be fine in bathing myself, Sir. No worries," she states, looking amused.

"Good," he nods. "And then we'll get you a decent set of clothes. Can't have you in rags. Anyone traveling with me has to be as equally stylish as your's truly!"

"I will be fine with most clothing," the child supplies. "Even a set close to the ones I have on, will be fine."

He paused, raising an eyebrow at her. "But…Shouldn't I get you a yukata? That's proper for girls, right…?"

An awkward pause follows. The child freezes, staring up at him.

"Wait, did I—You're a boy?!" he yelped, eyes wide. He couldn't believe it—the brat had pretty, waif-like features. Pink lips and eyes with heavy lashes. Long hair that went passed shoulder-length, looking like it was cut with an uneven hand.

Another pause. The child tilts her—his?—head. Then slowly looks down, picking a strand of white hair between thin fingers.

"Ah…Right. Almost forgot," the pale child mutters. Looks up at him, and states clearly, "No, I am indeed a girl."

The last sentence is stated with wariness and distaste, that she tries to mask. A downward curl of her lips, a ghost of a sneer.

"Riiiight," he drawls, giving her a dubious look. "How the hell do you forget your own gender, anyways?"

All he gets is a dead stare, and a small shrug.

What a weird kid.

"…You're a girl. A **little** girl. Aren't you all supposed to…Like pretty clothes? Y'know, pink and sparkly and frilly…?" he asks slowly, after a tense silence, gesturing awkwardly at her ragged boy clothes.

Then again, the girl he knew the most when she was young was Tsunade. And she was more tomboyish than anything, most of the time. Maybe his preconceptions were just off?

The child gave a shrug. "Doesn't really matter to me. It's cheaper, and more practical, to wear men's clothing."

…Right. He was spending a lot of time and money, on this brat, just for these few days. He's not even going to take the kid as his actual apprentice, either.

Jiraiya sighs. What has he gotten himself into…?


	3. Jiraiya: Brat (Part 2)

Any chapters that have parts in parenthesis are directly following/related to the previous part. So, this chapter follows the chapter titled 'Jiraiya: Brat'.

This chapter is more than 4k words, because I couldn't stop writing. Jiraiya is surprisingly enjoyable to write.

 _Reply to Guest_ : Thank you! Jiraiya just seems to...spread his influence. All over the continents. Multiple times. Our heroine was trying to manipulate Jiraiya to get him to help her, but who knows...? Unless a paternity test can confirm or deny it, the issue of her being his kid is certainly up in the air.

* * *

Jiraiya: Brat (Part 2)

* * *

He shouldn't have gotten so attached.

After getting the brat cleaned up and in new clothing, he finds her…Cute. She acts the part of a daughter disturbingly well. And damn it, he's starting to feel bad about the concept of leaving a child to fend for themselves during an imminent war.

They're both off eating cheap ramen in the shady part of town, after getting her clothed and bathed. Apparently, the kid has little preference when it came to food, and he'd had to make the choice of what to have for lunch.

"I've been living off plants, to get here. I've eaten the cheapest foods since I've gotten to civilization. Sometimes stuff from the garbage bins of restaurants, too," she'd deadpanned. "I learned not to get picky."

The brat had a talent for being blunt, and making him feel awful, in equal measures. He'd recoiled in a full-body wince, when she'd stated that, in such a cool, detached manner.

She only ate one bowl. Looked down at its dregs, in a way reminiscent of longing. He huffed, and ordered another bowl of ramen for her.

She looked up at him in surprise. "You're as skinny as a damn twig. Eat," he told her gruffly.

The child gave a slow blink up at him, although her gaze drifted to the food in front of her. "Even if the food looks very delectable, I'm malnourished. Eating too much too soon will just make me throw it back up, Jiraiya-sama. But I am very…touched, at the sentiment."

He scowls, feeling the need to hit himself. Of **course** she was malnourished and couldn't stomach too much food. He'd went through a similar process with the Ame orphans…He should have known better.

"Try eat a bit of it, and give the rest to me to finish," he says instead. Her expression brightening at the concept of being able to eat more food is…very reminiscent of his students from Ame, the first time he found them and gave them his rations.

She doesn't gobble down the noodles, taking her own advice in eating small spoonfuls slowly. She leaves over half the bowl full, casually picking up his own empty bowl and replacing it with hers.

He makes her stay in a cheap hotel room to rest in, whilst he goes and visits the nearby brothels. She has a knowing look in her eye, as if she expected as much. But she's not disgusted. Just shrugged, and started on perusing the scrolls he left her.

When he comes back in the ungodly hours of the morning, he finds her meditating on the ceiling, above the plush bed. She doesn't startle when he enters the room.

He has to deflect a few kunai that are triggered from a trap she set up at the door. He steps over the two trip wires just inside the entryway—one hidden by the other's shadow. He ducks a tag that flutters from the ceiling, instantly dismantling it with his chakra spiraling into patterns, no ink even needed.

"I seen you've been busy," he drawls. Then, he takes the tag, and stares closely at it. "The hell is this…?"

"I read through some of your sealing theory, and created a paralysis seal based on the concepts in one of your notebooks you left in here," she states, casually dropping from the ceiling, twisting around and landing in an almost perfect crouch on the mattress.

"You created your own seal…?" he asks, mouth slowly gaping lower and lower on his face.

She just shrugs, flippantly waving him off with a hand. "You had most of the work done. I just tweaked it to work. Did it while I was practicing my sensor abilities, three hours back."

Jiraiya slowly rubs at his temples. By the Sage, she…She's done so much when he's been gone, gallivanting off into the brothels to gather intel.

He also feels a bit…not **disappointed** , per se, but something along those lines. He almost thought he was lucky enough to stumble across **another** fuinjutsu prodigy. But that would be ridiculous.

All the girl really did was take his own designs, and just finish them. Didn't make her own. Didn't do anything particularly revolutionary. She just essentially added a last ingredient into the pot, stirred it, and took off the finished soup from the stove.

She was sharp enough to pick up the practice, but doesn't have any talent with it. A bit like Kakashi, from what Minato tells him of the squirt. That kid can pick up on just about anything, but only has true talent and mastery in a few areas.

"Just go to sleep, brat," Jiraiya sighs, passing a hand down his face. He's too tired to deal with this shit, right now. "I'll lecture you on seal safety in the morning. Later." He waves his hand about, specifically at the singed curtains that show the tinge of light across the night sky. "In a few hours."

"Yes, Jiraiya-sama," the girl answers promptly.

* * *

In the morning, after at least five hours of sleep, he drags the brat out of bed. Or, well, **tries**. She attaches herself to the sheets with chakra, and pulls out a kunai from under her pillow, brandishing it at his face.

"Nice reflexes," he muses. She should probably sharpen her weapons, though. They're dented and dull. After a quick breakfast in the room, he tells her as much.

"I know the basics for how to care for them, but I don't have the proper supplies to have done so for these weapons I've scavenged," she says primly.

"Scavenged…?" he asks. And, really, he shouldn't have. Because it opens the floodgates.

She goes through the entire story of how her hometown, Murasaki Village, was destroyed. Does so, as if she was reciting a mission report. Her voice is with little inflection and even, despite the subject itself. Her gaze is firm, and her back is straight.

She used to be a damn civilian before this, from a tiny, backwaters village—yet, she is already acting like a soldier. And it is horrifying.

The feeling of horror he feels intensifies, as she keeps telling her story.

Apparently, she's always been sensitive to chakra. She felt the strong signatures of the Iwa squad coming before they actually appeared, and tried to warn her neighbors. They didn't listen to the warnings of a little girl. She hid, and watched as they were slaughtered before her very eyes.

One of the Iwa nin—the youngest, she'd surmised—was at her home. She clamped down on her chakra signature, and rushed at his back with a basic kitchen knife.

She killed him. And then she left his corpse to rot, as she hid under the debris of a neighbor's home. The Iwa team came to look for their last team member. A man—the leader—saw her hiding, but dismissed her, and ordered his squadron to keep moving.

"The man—they called him Roshi-taichou," she explained. "He had red hair, long and pulled back, as well as a beard. He also had some form of fire attack. Spit lava from his mouth. He had a lot of strong chakra, that felt very…dark."

Jiraiya didn't need the descriptor, to know who the child spoke of.

Roshi of the Lava Release was famous. He was one of the strongest of Iwagakure, and one of their Jinchuriki. S-ranked in the Bingo Books across the Elemental Nations, with a full two-page spread to himself.

Apparently, after the attack, the girl scavenged her destroyed village for supplies. Robbed the corpses of her people, for the ninja tools embedded in their flesh. Packed any canned foods that had survived the collapsing of the buildings.

"Were there any more survivors…?" he asked her, voice low and gentle.

She stared down at her hands. "Some survived the attacks. But…they were buried under the rubble. I was too weak to dig them out. Or they were losing blood fast, and dying like dogs. The smoke inhalation from the fires was also a problem I couldn't fix."

She looks up at him, with dark, haunted eyes. Eyes of someone much older than a mere child. "There were none I could save. I tried carrying two babies off for medical attention at the closest village but…They died on the way."

He expects her to break down, to start sobbing and wailing. Any healthy person would do so. Hell, most civilian adults would do so within a heartbeat.

But all she did was give a bitter, choked laugh. No tears.

Jiraiya gets so overwhelmingly uncomfortable, that he forcefully and transparently changes the subject to seals. Specifically, the paralyzing seal she's made, and the proper safety when it came to creating and testing seals.

"I figured as much," she mused, edge of her mouth tilting upwards. "You held a lot of warnings in the first book of yours, over basic sealing theory."

"It's a dangerous, complicated art," he says wisely. "A lot of variables that can end in something going wrong. Oftentimes, catastrophically."

"I was following your own notes, though. I had faith that you knew what you were doing," she states dryly, face twitching until she's giving a small grin. "Since you **are** a Sannin, and Fuinjutsu Master."

He scoffs, but feels himself puff up in pride, anyways. "Of course I am—but **you're** not. Just next time, don't do anything stupid like that, alright, brat?"

"Hai, Jiraiya-sama."

He leaves her alone for a few hours with the scrolls and some ration bars, returning to take them out to dinner. Again, she has no preferences, so he just settles for some yakitori.

The brat has already figured out her chakra nature through trial and error. And she's gotten two fire-natured chakra exercises down flat. She's working on getting an actual jutsu.

He convinces her to stop practicing inside the hotel. They'll work on that on the road, so she **doesn't** burn down a building by accident. She acquiesces easily.

* * *

It isn't until the fourth day, when they're barely out on the road, that Jiraiya realizes that he doesn't even know her damn name.

He probably shouldn't ask her. Knowing her name would build a bond, and create a stronger attachment. It would be a bad idea and—

"Hey, brat. You got a name?"

Yeah, he fucks that up **real** quick. ' _Nice going, dumbass_ ,' he thinks to himself.

"Shiroi," the girl ( **Shiroi** —he can finally call her something other than girl or child or brat, now) says.

" **White**?" he snorts, before guwaffing. "That's such a stupid, unoriginal name…! Bwahaha!"

He has to calm himself down, noticing the girl's look of bemusement and annoyance. "That it? Just Shiroi?"

"Just Shiroi," she confirms.

"No shame in only having a first name. I'm only 'just' Jiraiya, y'know," he says, ruffling her hair. She frowns, wrinkling her nose, and jerks her head away. "Little Shiroi-chan has skin and hair as white as snow. How poetic." She only gives a grunt in response.

Out on the road, he teaches her a D-rank Fire Jutsu. Shiroi catches on quickly, and he gives her another. She also masters it.

It could technically be dangerous to practice fire jutsu, with the amount of grass around—this **is** the Land of Grass, after all— but…Well, it's better than inside a hotel.

The entire time, she's also practicing her chakra control, sticking blades of grass and leaves to herself, or expelling small quantities from her hands. Every few minutes, she looks off into the distance suddenly. Turns out, she can sense the small signature of creatures that near them.

"You know, you should put that to use," he muses lazily. "Could get some target practice in, if any rabbits get close."

He's not sure why he thinks Shiroi will object. Maybe because young children are usually squeamish of killing small creatures, and catching their own food. Maybe because she's a young girl.

But she looks up at him with a mile-long stare for a few seconds, before giving a curt nod.

By the time they stop for lunch at a rocky clearing, the girl's struck down three squirrels and a rabbit. She also gathers edible berries and roots from the area, and helps him fix the fire.

"Shiroi-chan, do you know how to skin an animal?" he asks, settling back on his haunches to watch her work. She looks over her shoulder, and shakes her head. "C'mere, I'll show you."

She watches, entranced, as he slowly skins the furry creatures, explaining the different steps he takes. She's swift in getting out a clean knife to chop the meat into pieces, skewering them in branches in a macabre form of shish-kabob, to roast over the low flames.

After the meats are cooked, they stamp out the flames, cover their tracks, and go back on the road. They eat on the way, to save time.

"Jiraiya-sama," Shiroi mutters, after idly playing with chakra fire across her hands, two hours later. "Why are we going so…slow? Couldn't you just carry me, and run, using your ninja speed?"

Jiraiya pauses mid-step, almost stumbling and face-planting into the dirt.

"You **are** a well-known ninja, so…It wouldn't seem out of place for you to arrive in the Capitol after running, right…?" she presses, one fine eyebrow cocked upwards.

It takes a lot of self-control for him to not let out a string of curses in front of her.

He stoops low, back to her, giving a gesture. "Try to get on. I'll carry you that way."

"With that huge scroll taking up most of your back…?" she says dubiously, face scrunched up.

The man gives a put-upon sigh, adjusting the oversized scroll to lie horizontally on the small of this back. "There. Should be enough room, now. Hop on."

Shiroi puts away her weapons, double-checks her supplies, and complies.

They both end up entering the Capitol of Grass before dinner, after he executes a few Shunshins, and generally using chakra to augment his speed. Going through the slums and back alleys, he leads her to some of the ninja supply shops.

"Stay hidden, and just wait a bit. I'm going to get you those books. It won't be long," he mutters. She nods quickly, before darting off in the space between two buildings. She tucks herself in, blending into the shadows.

He didn't want to take her into those stores. Maybe they'd **really** think she was his daughter, and that could cause problems, if any enemy ninja caught on. Dangerous for her.

It doesn't take much time to get the books, or to stock up. Jiraiya is memorable, and the shopkeepers are all but throwing themselves at him, trying to please him with their wares.

When he finds Shiroi again, his arms laden with purchase bags, she's kicking some random creep in the crotch.

The creeper doubles over, howling and holding his family jewels. He leaves his face open for a well-executed right hook. And then she whips out a kunai, slamming the butt end on the back of the shabby man's head, knocking him out and causing his body to crumple on the dirty alley floor.

"He wanted me to 'go home' with him," she states dryly, slowly turning to face Jiraiya. "I'm pretty sure he was a pedophile. And a rapist. So, I took care of it."

"I…can see that," the white-haired man responds weakly. "Er…Dinner?"

Her expression brightens, and she nods her head quickly. "Can we…" she starts, before clamping her mouth shut, lips in a tight line.

"You have any preferences, Shiroi-chan?" he asks lightly, with a teasing grin.

After a few moments, she gives a tentative shrug. "Stir-fry…?"

"Sounds good with me," he chuckles, gesturing his head over to the main street. "Let's go. I saw a place, over here."

They sit inside the modest restaurant, full of delicious smells. They have seats in a corner by a window, as he'd requested by the hostess. Shiroi chows down on two servings of chicken stir-fry.

"Your stomach better, now?" he asks, watching in bile fascination as the girl manages to scarf down two whole plates without any trouble. He's not sure how such a little twig of a kid can eat so much.

"Better than last week," she says around her chopsticks. She doesn't speak again after that, and he's forced to keep up the conversation.

When they finish, Shiroi looks up from the empty water glass she'd been contemplating. She locks eyes with him, and asks, "May I have the books and scrolls now, Sir?"

The way she says it—the grimness, the uncertainty—and how she only calls him 'Sir' tips him off on something being…wrong.

"Sure," he says slowly, mouth twitching down into a frown, as he riffles through the bags. He organizes and shuffles a few things, before handing her two bags full of the stuff he'd promised her, before. "You that excited to start…? At least let us get to the hotel first."

The girl freezes, paling, while she's in the middle of the motion of getting up. She turns a wide-eyed gaze up at him. "W…What?"

His frown deepens. "C'mon, kid. You can't just run off and practice willy-nilly now that you've—"

"You want me to stay?" she demands, standing up fully, staring down at him. "With you? **Why**?"

He reels back, spluttering. "What type of stupid question is that, brat?!" he asks, feeling suddenly defensive.

"You've given me the materials you promised me," she states in complete and utter monotone. "There really isn't…any more reason, for me to stay with you."

Jiraiya feels like someone just punched him in the gut. He tries to talk, but no sound comes out. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, before he catches his equilibrium again.

"I'm not going to just chuck you out, the second I've given you the books," he hisses quietly, eyes shifting around, noticing the curious looks he's getting from the patrons. "Now stop making a scene!"

Jiraiya pays for the food, faking a jubilant smile as he leads his charge out of the restaurant. The next few minutes were tense and silent, as they roam the streets.

They check into a cheap hotel room near the edge of the Red Light District. Once settled, Jiraiya stands in front of the girl, arms crossed.

"I'm not going to just let a kid wander out in this city at night," he says coldly. "I wouldn't have abandoned you the second you got your stuff. Ergo, why you're here, in this hotel room."

Shiroi just stares up at him, her eyes barren like a wasteland.

"You should stop wasting your time. Go, now," she deadpans. "I'll be fine."

The white-haired man can't help but stomp out of the room. The brat was so… **frustrating**. The hell did she take him for, anyways…?!

* * *

When Jiraiya comes back to the hotel room at two in the morning, the girl is curled up in a nest of blankets on the floor. Not on the bed, like before.

He's so angry, he wants to just leave her there. But his soft heart finally makes him move to pick her up and place her on the left side of the bed, tucking her in gently.

She doesn't even twitch. Must have exhausted herself, practicing the things in those materials he gave her.

A few hours later, he snaps awake, to Shiroi waking up. He feigns sleep, looking through slits, watching as she carefully and quietly gathers her things. She seals the bulk of the books in a sealing scroll—something she either pilfered from him, or had copied and created herself.

"Where do you think **you're** going?" he asks quietly, voice tight. The little girl freezes a few steps from the door.

No answer comes, for the next few tense moments. "Turn around, and answer me," he orders, sitting up in the bed, alert.

Shiroi turns on her heel, arms crossed defensively across herself. "Leaving. As per the conditions you'd given," she answers curtly.

Jiraiya can't help but sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You take things so damn literally, brat…It's a pain, you know that?"

"You said you wouldn't teach me," she retorts, voice sounding like it was getting frustrated. "It's obvious you don't want or need an apprentice. So, there shouldn't be a reason for why I have to stay with you."

"I know," he says, trying to keep calm. "But think about it, brat. I'm going to be staying here for at least a few days. Wouldn't it be more beneficial to you, if you staid with me, until I left…?"

She opens her mouth, but pauses. The girl tilts her head, eyes squinting slightly, with that usual look on her face that she gets. The one, where she's deep in thought, analyzing multiple aspects of a situation.

"I see…" Shiroi muses quietly, before her features slacken to a perfect blank slate. She gives a curt nod. "I agree to those conditions. I will stay, for the time you are here, in this city."

He lets out a long breath. "Alright. Good thing **that's** settled. Now, let's go get breakfast. Maybe some coffee will help with my damn headache…"

* * *

The next few days pass quickly. Jiraiya keeps getting just a little bit more attached to Shiroi, and that's a problem.

 **She** wants to leave. **He** wants to leave. They both acknowledge that he doesn't want an apprentice, and can't afford to have one.

And yet, he also wants to stay. To keep her with him.

It's the eleventh morning overall, since they've met. They wake up bright and early, and have a quiet, subdued breakfast at a teahouse. They've gotten a place in a secluded corner, and he's discreetly placed privacy seals around the table, so they can talk freely.

"I'm leaving, today. To Kusagakure," he says lowly, taking a shot of sake from the proper little tasting cup the matron provided him.

Shiroi is serene when she answers. "Yes, I'd thought as much, Jiraiya-sama." She takes a long sip of her apple tea.

Jiraiya can't help but pause. But he does. And before he really knows what he's doing, words are tumbling from his lips. "Your company hasn't been too bad. You sure you wanna stay here?"

The girl freezes, cup halfway from her mouth. She carefully sets the ceramic cup on the table. She then gives a pointed look—an icy glare—at him.

"Why…do you keep doing this?" she asks, in a low voice.

"Doing **what**?" he splutters defensively.

"Trying to help me more than you have," she states. "You have no obligation to me. You have no need for an apprentice—"

"Look here, **girl** ," he spits through grit teeth. "You don't know a **damn** thing—"

"I **know** that I have already slowed you down," she cuts him off, a snarl forming on her smooth features. "And I will only slow you further, if you have to tote me around!"

He doesn't know what to say to that. Because…she's right.

"Jiraiya-sama, you are much too important to be wasting your time on me. **Please** —save it for the war effort," she tells him, voice thin and quaking with emotion. Her face morphs to something closer to pleading. "The work you do is **important** —"

"And **not** abandoning a little girl in the middle of a war **isn't** important?!" he snaps, passing a hand roughly through his shaggy mane of hair.

" **Yes** ," Shiroi insists, leaning forwards. "I am only one person, Jiraiya-sama. But the war? It encompasses **thousands**. Your job is time-sensitive. You **need** to gather information, to help lower casualties. And for every day you spend with me, wasting your time on me— **dozens** could be losing their lives."

"And I won't…I won't forgive myself, if that's the case," she says, in a quiet whisper. "You stop and take me in as an apprentice, and…And that could very well change the course of the war. With less information you give Konoha, Iwa could—Iwa could…!"

This is the most emotionally compromised he's ever seen Shiroi. Not even recounting the destruction of her home…got her to tears, like just now.

Two thin wet streaks are on her face, but she doesn't wipe the tears away. He slowly reaches out a hand, to do so. She cringes, shying away from him.

His hand awkwardly hovers in the air. Despondent and with a heavy heart, he lets it drop back down, onto the tabletop.

"Look, that's **stupid** to do. Putting all that weight on yourself, blaming yourself," he says, a frown feeling permanently etched on his face.

This girl is bringing up doubts in himself. _What if…?_ What if he didn't stop to train Yahiko, Konan, and Nagato? Could the Second Shinobi War have ended quicker, if he put all his attention into it?

Would he have saved Nawaki and Dan? Would Tsunade have ended up staying in Konoha?

Would he just be repeating his mistakes, if he let his bleeding heart get the better of him, and take Shiroi under his wing?

The girl shakes her head. "Everyone's counting on you, back in Konoha," Shiroi says, voice rough, yet firm. "I'll be fine. I've **been** fine, so far."

He grunts, mouth in a thin line. "…You're adamant about this, aren't you, kid?" he asks, resigned.

She nods furiously. "Absolutely. I honestly don't want to be the reason for the Butterfly Effect effing things up, you know?"

He pauses, staring at her. "What…the hell does that mean?"

"Nothing," she states quickly, a small twitch at the mouth betraying her smile. "But, really—you should go off, and be a hero. Maybe we'll meet again in the future, where there isn't a war, and I'll bother you for proper instruction."

Jiraiya gives a long, drawn-out sigh, leaning against his chair and taking a swig straight from the sake bottle on the table. "So firm…So selfless…Ugh, you're like **Minato**. Damn me and my luck," he groans.

He massages his temples, before taking a peek down at the pale girl. Shiroi's staring expectantly at him with those unique red eyes of hers, one thin eyebrow raised in questioning.

"Fine. Whatever. You win," he says, waving his hand in a shooing motion at her. "Go and get stronger. I'll hold you to that promise of meeting in a few years, Shiroi-chan. Maybe by then, you won't be so damn bullheaded."

He's not expecting the full-blown beaming smile she gives him. It's the brightest, happiest, fondest expression he's ever seen on her previously stoic, smooth face.

"Thank you, Jiraiya-sama, for what you've done for me," she says softly, eyes shining, as she gently takes one of his hands in her two small ones. "You may not think you're doing enough, but…But what you've already done has meant the world to me."

Before he can make a flippant reply and hide under bravado, or do something incredibly sappy, the girl has left him alone at the table.

Jiraiya takes the time to look down at his sake forlornly. He takes a swig to get rid of the cold he feels—but the motion just makes it obvious how icy his hands became, without the brat there to hold them in her tiny, pale ones.

"Such a bleeding heart," he mutters to himself, under his breath. His mouth twitches into a small smile, when he sees a small note under the empty cup of tea Shiroi had been drinking from. In bold script, it said, " _I.O.U, Jiraiya-sama_ ".

"Brat didn't even pay for her drink…Heh," he snorts, turning the little note in his hands, before tucking it into one of his pockets. "Maybe next time, eh…?"

When he leaves the city, he swears he feels the familiar stare of the red-eyed girl. But that could probably just be wishful thinking…


	4. Kimimaro: Warm

Last chapter seems to have doubled literally all of the stats for this story. You all spoil me, truly. All the support means a lot to me.

Now, is when things start to get complicated for you dear readers. This is when I'll start posting random parts that come to me, instead of having everything in long, neat, chronological order.

 _Reply to Guest_ : Not even **I** know Shiroi's true parentage at this point, so it will take a while until all of us know. And we can only hope Shiroi's fate doesn't end in tragedy, like all of Jiraiya's pupils seem to... Thank you for liking her so much!

[Ages: Shiroi is 23. Kimimaro is 10.]

* * *

Kimimaro: Warm

* * *

Kimimaro has been hidden, locked up in the cold jails of the Kaguya clan, ever since his strong kekkei genkai has shown itself in his body. He was three, his first incident of using the _shikotsumyaku_ technique.

And ever since, he has been kept safe in a cage. Because his power was wonderful and rare, but also very dangerous. Kaguya-dono had said as such.

The only time Kimimaro has been allowed outside, is for battle. Practice. Spars. Fights. Battling enemies. That is all he has ever known, in his young life. The thrill of the fight.

It's not particularly thrilling for him, though. Fighting just…Comes natural to him. But he doesn't **enjoy** it.

He doesn't like hurting people. But, that's all he's good for. To fight, for his clan.

However, two full days have passed, and no one has come for him. Usually, one of his dear cousins comes in to give him meals, and drink, and allow him to go to the bathroom.

But, so far, no one has come.

Kimimaro doesn't feel guilty, when he breaks out of his cage. He's worried for his cousin. For his family.

He wanders the compound. The area. Eventually, he climbs a tree, sits down, and stares down into Kirigakure. Because his clan is gathered in a clearing amongst the mist-covered buildings, and they are all dead.

"Ah," he mutters aloud. Stares, with his bright green eyes.

He slips from the tree, and starts to wander away, a pain building in his chest.

The boy returns to the clan compound, for that first day. It's all he's ever known, really, so it makes sense that he naturally goes there.

It doesn't take him long for the realization to properly sink in.

Kimimaro Kaguya is the last survivor of the Kaguya Clan, at age ten.

* * *

The next day, he rouses himself from his pitiful slumber. He gathers what little he possesses, what little he needs, and decides to leave. To…Go, and find a purpose, somewhere out there.

He doesn't get that far. He's only been traveling for a day, not even near the next closest civilian village, when he comes across someone.

It's night, when he meets her. He's resting, in the crook of a tree with large roots. She's silent when she approaches, incredibly slowly.

At first, Kimimaro thinks she's a ghost. She doesn't make a sound, and she seems to **glow** in the mist and moonlight, her red eyes a promise of death.

The next thing he thinks, is that perhaps she's an angel. She's tall and beautiful, and a calming energy surrounds her. Perhaps she is here to guide him on his journey, to help him find a reason to live.

Then, his brain finally seems to break from the odd euphoria, and he notices— **really** notices—the color of her hair. It's…Long and straight, held back.

And it's white.

White, just like **his** hair.

An odd feeling blooms within his chest— Joy? Relief?—at this realization.

Perhaps, this woman…Perhaps, she is another survivor of the Kaguya Clan. Perhaps she is his mother, come to whisk him away, like he'd always dreamed.

Perhaps…He is not alone, any longer.

He tries to stand, stumbling over the roots underfoot. He trips, falling forwards. In a blink of the eye, the woman is **right** in front of him, catching him.

She is…warm. So, so warm. And she feels…safe.

Before he can fully comprehend what he's doing, Kimimaro is wrapping his arms around her, gripping her jacket in his hands strongly. He buries his head into her kimono-top-clad bosom, inhales the essence of some type of pleasant-smelling flower, and cries.

He cries big, ugly sobs. His breath catches, his chest constricts into something painful, his nose runs, and…he just **can't** **stop** , once he starts.

It's like the floodgates have opened. He cannot stifle his tears, cannot stop shaking and quivering with grief and relief and confusion.

The woman holds him in her arms, soothingly stroking his hair. She murmurs comforting things he cannot decipher, over the loud sobs that peal from his throat.

It feels like an eternity, when he finally stops crying. However, it has probably only been a few minutes. When he does, he detaches his face from the woman's chest, suddenly very aware of his actions, and very much embarrassed.

But the woman is kind. She gives him a small, sad smile, taking out a handkerchief. Then, she gently wipes his face from tears and mucus.

"You poor thing…Are you lost?" she asks, voice soft and near monotone, yet still kind.

Kimimaro nods, not able to articulate a proper answer.

"Do you…need help, getting back home?" An odd look is on her face, when she asks this. As if, she already knows the answer, but is asking anyways, just for the sake of it.

"N-No," he croaks, giving one last sniff. "My clan…Is dead. I'm the last survivor…Unless…Unless you…"

He looks up at her, eyes wide and hopeful. But, once he scrutinizes her, he notes discrepancies with her appearance, compared to his, or the general look of the Kaguya.

She does not have the two red dots upon the brow—birthmarks of the Kaguya. Her eyes are red, rather than green, and are not surrounded by red in the area of the lashes.

The woman slowly raises her hand, and hovers it over him, before setting it down on his head. "I'm sorry, but I've never been a part of a clan before."

He feels his heart miss a beat, and a sense of dismay, for some odd reason. Stupid for him to have just **assumed** that she had survived the massacre, that she was his **family** …

The woman starts to slowly stroke his hair, and Kimimaro is almost overcome with the urge to cry, once more. "But…We're a bit alike. We have the same pale skin and white hair, neh?" she says, giving a pause. Then, she says, much more quietly, "I was the last of my village. I'm also an orphan. Alone."

He stares up at her face, looking at the mixture of emotions that dance across her eyes. Her face is blank, but the façade is wavering.

"We don't have to be alone any longer, though," the woman says, a small smile painting her lips. "How about…You come with me?"

She drops her hand from his hair, extending it in front of him, palm-up. "I'm Shiroi. I'll do my very best to take care of you, young one. What's your name…?"

His eyes widen, looking between her soft face and her extended hand. He grasps it with his two smaller hands. "I-I'm Kimimaro Kaguya, of Kirigakure's Kaguya Clan. Or, well…Former clan…"

Shiroi moves her hand, making the intertwined pile bob up and down. "It's good to meet you, Kimimaro-kun." She gestures to the tree he'd been perusing, before. "I have a sleeping bag we can use for the night. I'll look out for anything dangerous so you can sleep safe and sound, okay?"

The boy nods meekly, letting her hand go. She takes off the pack on her back, unrolling the sleeping bag that had been clipped on top of it. She lays it down, amongst the roots, and slips into it.

Shiroi looks up at him, holding out a flap of the sleeping bag. "It'll be a squeeze, but there's enough room. C'mere."

The boy shuffles awkwardly forward, tentatively sliding himself into the space besides her. It's a bit tight, but it's…warm. Cozy, even.

He's so warm and safe, he drifts off to sleep almost instantly, nuzzling into Shiroi.

Despite the slaughter of his clan just two days prior, it's the best night of sleep Kimimaro has ever had up to this point, in his short life.

* * *

Kimimaro awakens, swathed in a warm sleeping bag.

It takes him a few moments to get his perception back, and remember the events of last night. But when he does, he gives a small gasp, quickly sitting up and looking around with wild eyes.

The woman from last night—Shiroi—is a few meters away, sitting in front of a small fire. She's skewering strips of meat onto small branches.

Her head whips up at his sudden gasp, her body twitching and tense. But she relaxes, when she sees that he has not been attacked.

"Sorry for leaving you alone, to sleep…I had a feeling you'd react badly, when you woke up without me there with you," she sighed, face a sheepish grimace. "It's been a while, since I've last camped with someone."

Kimimaro blinks his green eyes slowly, before he looks down, abashed. "N-No, I should be the one to apologize. I…over-reacted."

"You reacted in a way most would, Kimimaro-kun," the woman hums in response, before stabbing the branches into the ground, to roast the meat over the fire. "Breakfast will be ready soon."

The boy rubs the sleep from his eyes, languidly stretching his stiff, sore limbs. He properly gets up, stepping out of the sleeping bag, rolling it back up.

Tentatively, he skitters over to Shiroi, gently setting down the sleeping bag next to her pack. The smell of the meat makes his mouth water.

The woman takes the first skewer, turning it to inspect the strips of meat. With a pleased nod, she hands it to him.

The boy stares down at the branch, looking up at the woman's expectant face, before he pinches at one of the meat strips. It's hot. He retracts his fingers, waving them lightly.

"Eating it from the branch helps from burning your fingers," she says distractedly, as she turns the second branch over the fire.

Hesitantly, Kimimaro brings the branch closer to his face. Poising his teeth above the meat, he sinks his teeth in, pulls the food from the bark, and chews.

It's…Good. Very good, compared to what he's been eating, the past two days. He hadn't wanted to hurt and kill any cute little creatures, just so have meat to eat—but it seems like Shiroi is already very adept at hunting and foraging, living off the land. She had no qualms for killing a rabbit for breakfast.

The woman stamps out the fire quickly after she cooks the food, placing the small pelt of a rabbit over the smoldering ash. She discreetly wraps up the leftover parts of the rabbit, and hides them somewhere on her person.

"Let me show you how to cover tracks after camping, Kimimaro-kun," she tells him. "It's an important skill, to keep people from following your trail."

The boy is incredibly fascinated by all the things she teaches him, just to return the space to its natural state. He's never been out for very long, to have to have such skills.

All the skills he has are to kill.

She leads the way. Sometimes, she stops and asks him for his opinion on the direction. He'd try to give his good guess, and she'd smile and nod. She'd make comments on how he was right or wrong, using things like the position of the sun or of moss on trees when it came to his answers.

By the time they reached the little village—a place often passed through, to get to Kirigakure itself—it was time for lunch. And he had already learned so much, from Shiroi.

She seemed to know just about **everything**.

She ushered him through back alleys, and quiet streets. The shadier parts of town. But, she seemed to be at ease—as if she was used to these types of places.

They had lunch at a small sushi stand. Then, she ushered them into a dubious-looking hotel.

"Alright, Kimimaro-kun," she spoke slowly, putting her hands on his shoulders, and leaning down to eye-level with him. "I want you to stay inside the hotel. You're going to do a few chakra exercises I give you, okay? While you do those, I'm going to go out and do a few odd jobs for money."

For some reason, panic flooded his veins. The boy gripped onto the woman's sleeve tightly. "D-Don't go…! Don't leave me!"

With a sigh, the woman sat down on the lone bed, ushering him to sit down besides her. "I won't be gone long, I promise. I'm just going to make some money, just in case."

He suddenly felt guilty. For that she had to make money, or that he overreacted, he's not fully sure.

"I'll walk you through the first chakra exercise, okay…?" she said, voice soft and kind. "And when you're in the swing of them, I'll slip out. I'll be back for dinner. You won't even realize I'll be gone, before I'm back."

Her voice lulled him into a sense of calm. She led him through the first chakra exercise slowly—sticking a leaf to his forehead. Explained the purpose, how to do it, the benefits, and what exercise would follow afterwards.

"It helps to clear your mind, and fall into meditation…Yes, good. Keep circulating your chakra up to the point on your forehead…Good, good."

It only took a few minutes for Kimimaro to master the exercise. He already knew how to mold chakra instinctively for his kekkei genkai; he only needed to hone in on it.

Shiroi set him up on the second exercise, and a list of the next few exercises, before slipping out of the room.

* * *

With bouts of meditation and extreme concentration on the exercises, it seemed as if Shiroi returned very quickly. But the light was waning outside the shrouded window, showing just how long time passed.

"Did a few odd jobs. Even got a bounty. A good day's work," she told him, pleased.

He gaped at her. "Y-You…tracked down a bounty? Isn't that dangerous?!"

"Hunting bounties is usually a dangerous job, yes. **However** , he was a very low-level threat. I didn't even make a scene, when I got him," she responded calmly, reaching out a hand to lay on his head. "I am a good fighter, Kimimaro-kun, and I've been hunting down bounties for years already. You shouldn't worry for me."

He couldn't help it, though. Worrying. He usually worried about people getting hurt. It was just in his nature. Just like how he was a born killer.

"Tell you what? I'll promise that I won't go after high-leveled bounties, or ones that I know will be too much for me to handle," Shiroi says, crouching down to eye-level.

"Can't…Can't I come with you?" he pleads, eyes shining, as he grips one of her sleeves.

"Absolutely **not** ," she snaps. He flinches back, recoiling into himself. Her face and voice soften. "Please understand, Kimimaro-kun. I just don't want you to get hurt."

"But…B-But I-I'm good at fighting…!" he says, voice strangled from a weight in his throat. His eyes burn with tears.

He's never felt so useless, before. All his life—his entire purpose—was to fight. To serve.

What use is he, if he can't fight…? What use is he, the only inheritor of the shikotsumyaku technique, if he doesn't use it…?

"The Kaguya Clan is very powerful, yes," she says soothingly, gently taking his chin and titling it up. "But you are still very young, and it should be **I** that protects you, the one that fights."

"When you're older, I will very much enjoy you fighting by my side," Shiroi states confidently. The boy can't help but hiccup, and beam at her. A warmth spreads through his body, and he feels much less inadequate.

"But…! Until then, you will train and get stronger. And I will teach and protect you, until you reach your prime. Understood?" she says firmly, a fine eyebrow quirked up, giving him a pointed glare.

Kimimaro nods quickly, his hair bobbing furiously with the motion. She grins fondly, giving a small laugh. "You know, you're a cute little kid. And with a heart in the right place."

She straightens, and he feels his cheeks warm, both embarrassed and pleased. "Let's go, Kimimaro-kun."

"Yes, Shiroi-sama," he answers promptly, attaching himself to one of her sleeves.

The warm feeling in his chest doesn't abate. It's always there, filling him, when he is with her.

It's almost like…Having a mother, Kimimaro muses to himself. It's…nice.


	5. Kakashi: Cloaked

I wasn't lying when I said that the next few chapters were going to be out of chronological order, my dear readers. We're back in the past with this chapter, in Kakashi Gaiden time. I loved reading all your reviews and theories about Shiroi, though.

Ages: Shiroi is 14. Kakashi, Rin, and Obito are 12 and Chunins, a year before the Kannabi Bridge mission.

* * *

Kakashi: Cloaked

* * *

Team Seven is assigned a B-rank mission, outside the Land of Fire.

Minato-sensei worries unnecessarily over this. The mission is simple, and it is in the Land of Grass. That nation is a neutral, peaceful one, and not too far north, past the Land of Fire. They are neighboring nations with peaceful ties. Safe.

The mission is essentially to go to Kusagakure, and gain information from the Kusakage's council, in order to help tighten their borders. Doing so will help tighten Konoha's, in turn; a beneficial, balanced mission for both sides.

It could also be very crucial, in helping the war effort, if any critical information is unearthed, whilst on the trip.

Kakashi points out that such a mission is logical, to be assigned to them. Their team is made of Chunin, each one from a clan, even if he himself is the last of the Hatake. They also have the elite Yellow Flash as a squad leader.

They should be able to take care of themselves, and complete the mission within its parameters, without a hitch. They have enough political and physical firepower behind their squad. It was elementary logic.

Minato-sensei still worries. He is a soft man when it comes to anyone barring enemies, who is usually worried by small details. The fact that the team is sent to go near the front lines, in order to go into foreign lands, is what worries him.

Obito is, of course, boisterous and ready to go, yet arrives to the gate late like he normally does. The idiot is hyperactive and doesn't think over the importance or consequences of this mission. Rin, like usual, provides a perfect middle ground with her opinion.

Kakashi insists on doing this mission properly, starting once they leave the gate. Minato-sensei, however, lets his worry override usual procedure. Only an hour outside Konoha, and he uses the Hiraishin, taking the squad along for the ride.

Doing so cuts down time to the border by three days. By lunch, they have already checked with one of Grass's feeble border patrols, and are making a beeline towards Kusagakure proper.

Minato-sensei does not dare use Hiraishin to cut straight into Kusagakure, because of the ramifications. It would look like an invasion or attack, for one. It is also incredibly rude, and may strain relationships between the two ninja villages, for another.

* * *

Grass is a smaller nation than the Five Great Shinobi Nations, yet is bigger than other minor nations. The terrain mostly consists of grass plains, with the occasional forested areas, or river. Using chakra-augmented speed— even when they're trying to keep their senses open, and minimizing their trail—gets them to the Capitol by the time night is starting to fall.

A six-day trip, at full-speed, will only end up taking a day and a half. All because Minato-sensei decided to cut corners, overtly protective of his squad.

Without being natives to the city, the four of them get lost fairly quickly. There are too many lights, people, and confusing paths. A plethora of smells overlap one another, creating a stifling cloak of stink over the area, too many for the gray-haired youth to be able to decipher. He cannot lead his squad properly through this mess, with his keen sense of smell, like in previous missions.

They wander. Obito and Rin 'ooh' and 'aah' at the various sights, looking like tourists, rather than ninja on a mission. Minato-sensei is unconcerned, however; he most likely knows how to get out of this situation.

Minato Namikaze is the type of man who will have a solution before a problem presents itself. If not, he creates a solution quickly. It is one of his many shining good traits, and one of the reasons why Kakashi trusts him so readily.

"We are losing time. Gaping at the cityscape is not helpful," the masked youth grouses, eyebrows creased in irritation.

"Geeze, get that stick out of your ass, Kakashi-baka!" Obito crows, waving his arms around the general spread of the street. "Take in the sights, when you can! We don't go to Capitol cities often, y'know!"

"Obito-kun, he's just being careful and alert. There's no telling what could happen, in a place as packed as this," Rin says logically, disarming grin still in place. "I'd feel better if we knew where we were going, though."

"I…Don't think we're in the good part of the city, anymore," Sensei mutters, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck. He nervously looks around the area.

The masked youth puts more attention to his surroundings. The buildings are dirtier. Those in the streets have shabbier clothing. They are staring, untrusting, at the presence of their squad.

The soft red lights that backlit certain buildings, however, are a large indicator of just where they've wandered into.

"We've stumbled into the Red Light District of the city. **Wonderful** ," he states dryly, scanning the seedy establishments with his dark eyes.

His two teammates stop in-synch, eyes wide and faces flushed.

"W-Why didn't we ask for directions or something earlier, before stumbling in…In **here**?" Obito squawks, voice gaining a shrieking, strangled quality.

Rin sighs, awkwardly rubbing one of her pink cheeks with a hand. "I **wanted** to ask for direction a few minutes back, but no one listened…" she said, giving a pointed look at the men in her squad. None of them meet her eyes, looking at random, interesting sights in the street.

Kakashi was trying to find someone to ask for directions. He was **not** avoiding Rin's exasperated gaze. Doing so would be an illogical action; one only Obito and Minato-sensei are indulging in.

His sharp eyes catches a movement in the shadows of an alleyway. At first, he is going to dismiss it as a thief or street urchin, waiting to pull someone in to mug them. However, the figure looked…Curious. Staring at them, with a knowing, mildly surprised, look.

Kakashi changes trajectory, heading straight for the figure blending into the shadows. They are wearing an oversized cloak, that covers almost their entire body, even the head. It is reminiscent to the fashion sense of an Aburame, he notes offhandedly.

Red eyes widen from the depths of the shadows. The figure tries to shy away, but the boy quickly latches a hand onto the person's shoulder.

Minato-sensei, Rin, and Obito are by his back. The figure stares with wide eyes, wildly, between the squad members. From what little peaks out, the figure's already pale skin seems to pale further.

"Kakashi…What are you doing?" Minato-sensei asks, sounding a bit wary.

"Asking for directions. We are lost. Isn't that what we need?" Kakashi bluntly answers, almost feeling the need to roll his eyes. Truly, it was **obvious** what he was doing…

"Uh, Kakashi-baka—manhandling a civilian usually isn't the best way to get directions," Obito pipes up.

"I think you're scaring her, Kakashi-kun..." Rin says softly, slowly reaching out to take his hand, gently retracting it from the cloaked person's shoulder. The figure—a girl?—looks to be trembling slightly.

Honestly, Kakashi would not have known that the cloaked figure was female, if not for Rin's womanly intuition. The girl is swathed in men's clothing. She has a smooth, feminine face, and that is the only indicator he finds of her gender.

Once his grip is off the cloaked girl, she shrinks back. The look on her face is that of one stuck between a fight-or-flight response.

She is tall. Taller than all of them, bar Minato-sensei. Older than the three Chunin, most certainly. Yet, she hunches over slightly, as if trying to make herself smaller and less noticeable.

"W-What type of directions are you in need of, Leaf shinobi…?" the cloaked female asks, voice strained. Her voice is high in pitch, from nerves.

"Just directions for the city, miss," Sensei says smoothly. He lays his hand hard on Kakashi's shoulder, gripping tightly. "Sorry for Kakashi-kun's…suddenness. We won't rudely be into your personal space in the future. Isn't that right, team…?"

The last part is addressed to the Chunin. They instantly answer with a, "Hai, Sensei" in unison. Kakashi and Obito reflexively look over to glare at each other.

"Getting out of the Red Light District, and to a hotel, would be greatly appreciated," Rin says sweetly, smiling at the other girl. The cloaked girl relaxes marginally.

"Ah. Quality of the hotel…?" the cloaked girl asks, in a murmur. Her voice is lower in pitch, without the edge of nerves.

"Economic, if that's not any trouble for you," Sensei says, giving her one of his charming smiles.

A few moments pass, as the cloaked girl seems to think over her options. Finally, she gives a curt nod. "Follow me." She turns on her heel, and starts walking further into the alley.

Kakashi snorts in disgust. "Do you think we're really that stupid, to follow you deep into the bowels of the city…? Do not mistake our looks as us being naive. We're elite shinobi."

The cloaked figure pauses. Slowly turns around, fingers twitching, but her hands are open by her sides. "Forgive me. I've forgotten to use the 'proper' routes through the larger streets," she says, voice flat and inflectionless. "Living in the Red Light District can do that."

Rin gives a sudden gasp of pity. Sensei winces. Obito blinks, before swatting at Kakashi's head—who naturally dodges.

"Geeze, you're such a paranoid, insensitive jackass, y'know that?!" the Uchiha exclaims, glaring at the prodigious Chunin.

"It was a viable hypothesis and worry," he snaps back, irately. "Many tourists fall into the traps and tricks of the _Akasen_ dwellers. Perhaps she had thought to try her luck with us, because of our ages."

"Please forgive Kakashi-kun for his lack of tact. We can give you extra payment for compensation, as an apology," Minato tells the street-rat quickly, as he grasps at both boys' collars.

The red-eyed girl stared at them for a few moments, silent. Then, she nodded. "It was rude, but he is at least conscientious. Which, I suppose, is a good trait for a ninja. If you had chosen another person to direct you, from the area, the probability of them trying to con you would be…high."

Before any of the ninja could get a word in edge-wise, their guide already turned around, moving forwards and motioning for them to follow. "I know my way around these alleyways, as well as the shortcuts to get you to a more… **savory** part of the city."

The four Leaf ninja follow her, naturally falling into formation. Kakashi on point, Sensei at the rear, Rin and Obito in the middle. Something they've practiced so much, it's ingrained into them.

She leads them through many twists and turns, past horrible smells and muggers lurking in the shadows. It couldn't even be five minutes, when she led them out into a large, bustling street, full of cheerful and well-kept shops.

The cloaked girl stays silent, as she weaves through the crowd, leading them forwards. Three buildings down, she stops in the front of what the group realizes is a hotel. The building is somewhat plain, barring a large sign at the entrance.

Obito and Rin take the time to look around the street, at the different sights, chattering. Sensei appraises the building. Kakashi splits his attention between his surroundings, and their guide.

"Decent quality place, and affordable," the cloaked girl says, jerking her head to the sign. "Also shinobi-friendly. They allow weapons and animals. Just don't destroy anything with jutsus, or they fine you."

"Sounds like you know from experience," Kakashi notes, a spark of challenge in his voice.

The girl merely shrugs. "Mostly word-of-mouth. I've never actually staid in here."

Minato-sensei smiles down at the Akasen girl, taking out his wallet from one of his pockets. "Thank you very much for your help, miss…" he trails off, as he hands the serious girl a few small ryo bills. Just enough for a meal at a restaurant, Kakashi notes.

"Oh! We've never actually gotten your name, did we…?" Rin exclaims, eyes wide. "Or even properly introduced ourselves…!"

"I'm Obito!" the Uchiha crows, giving a wide grin and adjusting the ridiculous goggles that always laid on his head. "And I'm gonna be Hokage in the future!"

"I'm Rin. Rin Nohara," the lone female of the squad bowed politely.

Sensei grins, giving a nod at the cloaked girl. "I'm Minato, their sensei," he says, putting a hand on the masked youth's shoulder. "This is—"

"Kakashi-san," the red-eyed girl supplemented. From the odd looks she gained—and a suspicious, narrow-eyed one from the named boy— she added, "His name had been used earlier. I remember."

"That's right…You only knew the jerk's name, from the four of us," Obito mused, lips twisted into a pout. "Geeze, that would've been, like, such a **tragedy**."

"What's your name, then?" Rin asks quickly, as if predicting and prematurely stopping the argument that was about to burst forth from the two male Chunin.

The cloaked girl stares at the Leaf ninja. The edge of her mouth quirks upwards. It is the closest thing to a positive expression that has been on her pale face, since Kakashi had first cornered her.

"I'm no one important," the red-eyed girl says serenely. She gives them a small bow. "Best wishes on your journey."

The unnamed girl has already turned around and merged with the crowd, when Minato-sensei calls out to her to wait.

"Ah, shoot," the blonde man says, with a frown, rubbing the back of his head. "I wanted to ask her a few questions…"

"What type of questions? We are already at the hotel," Kakashi points out, smoothly sliding out from the man's grip on his shoulder, towards the entrance. "We should sign in."

His team follows him inside the building, Obito putting up his usual grumbling protests. The lobby is plain, but relatively cleanly. A scroll on the wall by the entrance outlines the policies of the establishment.

It seems like the unnamed girl was correct. There is a sign that says 'Shinobi are welcomed' by the front desk.

Rin hazarded a guess. "Did you want to ask her how to get to Kusagakure, Sensei?"

The blonde merely gave a noncommittal hum. He alone went up to speak to the worker behind the desk, chatting and asking for a two-bed room. Bills were handed, keys were exchanged, and the worker gave a small, well-practiced speech on the rules and regulations of the hotel.

It essentially boiled down to: _Don't destroy property or kill people in here, you crazy shinobi. We'll charge you extra if you do._

* * *

The team of Leaf shinobi traipsed down an attached hallway, and up the stairs to their room. Minato-sensei stood out their numbered door, closing his eyes, sensing for traps. He placed a small seal on the door, nodding, and opened it for them to enter.

The room is modern, with a Western flair. There are low tables, coupled with mattress beds. The bathroom holds a small shower, along with a sink and white porcelain toilet.

It is all quite elegant, for an 'economic' hotel.

Then again, Grass has always had good commerce and trade. Its Capitol is a hotspot for tourism. Having nice hotels is a given.

Obito flops onto the nearest bed, hands behind his head. "Y'know, I wish we got that one girl's name…I wonder if she's related to Kurenai-chan."

"Because of her eyes?" Rin asks, setting her medical bag down on the small table

"Yeah," the Uchiha replies, giving a frown. "And that whole thing about saying she wasn't important? That was totally not true!"

"We would know her name, if she was truly vital to our mission," Kakashi drawls, removing and checking over his gear. "She was simply some civilian living in the Red Light District that gave us directions. At least she knew her place."

His teammate leapt up, from his previous position flopped out on the bed. "You're such a stuck-up bastard!" A pillow came sailing towards the masked youth, who lazily caught it, chucking it back towards the goggles-wearing boy. "Gah! You're so damn annoying!"

"You've taken the words from my mouth," Kakashi replied dryly.

The rest of the night consisted mostly the two boys bickering, whilst Rin played peacemaker. The four set up traps in their room, going to a nearby restaurant for dinner, and returned to get a good night's sleep. By oh-six-hundred hours the next morning, Team Seven was already back on the road.

Kakashi easily put the cloaked girl out of his mind. Obito and Rin made theories about her on the road, but he ignored their chatter.

She was not important to the mission. She was **nobody**.


	6. Hidan: Bars

A note: Just because I am writing Hidan and his point of view, doesn't mean I believe what he believes, nor do I swear as much as him. He's just really fun to write. *insert shrugging emoticon here*

[Ages: Shiroi is 27. Hidan is 21.]

Reply to kelahsawlie: Kakashi probably regrets many things from his youth; why not add one more thing? Poor Rin is the only female on the squad, and the only one that will admit that they need help with directions.

Kimimaro is actually a pretty sweet kid, in his flashbacks/before the slaughter of his clan. Bringing out his 'cuteness' wasn't very hard. Give the child **all** the hugs.

* * *

Hidan: Bars

* * *

He's just slaughtered a few heretics for Jashin-sama, and **damn** , is he feeling good.

See, this was the life. Traveling on his own, doing his own thing, killing some dudes. No one to hold him back.

Hidan is blessed by Jashin-sama, and that's all he really needs. Not some pansy-ass village that turned soft, into a **tourist** place, of all things.

Fucking Land of Hot Water…

The gray-haired young man—and wasn't **that** a fucking paradox?—stumbled into the closest bar. He's feeling in the mood to get drunk off his ass, maybe pick up a chick or two to fuck. The usual.

The bar is a seedy little place, full of piss-drunk guys and annoying smoke. Not many women in here, and the few there are don't really pick up his attention. He's got high standards for his one-night stands, because he's a **classy** motherfucker who's enlightened and does the will of the greatest god in existence.

Only the best for Jashin-sama's followers will do.

By the back, sitting in a stool at the bar, there's a woman who's just nonchalantly taken a guy's head in her hand, slamming his face into the counter. She's got blindingly white hair that's nearly down to the waist, like a beacon in the place. She also has a nice ass, from what Hidan can see.

Already, he falls in love. Or lust. Whichever fits the situation, right now.

The loser she slammed into the counter-top is passed out on the floor. Some of the patrons sitting at the bar a few spaces down have looks of fear or weariness on their faces, while they leer at her.

Hidan coolly slips into the seat next to her, propping his scythe next to him. The woman holds up a hand, before he can even open his mouth.

"Can you put pause on being a jackass? I still haven't gotten my drink yet," she drawls, not even looking at him. Rather, she's giving a dead stare to the barkeeper, who fidgets under her intense scrutiny. Lucky bastard.

"How about a pretty drink, for a pretty lady?" Hidan purrs. He snaps his fingers at the barkeeper. "Get her a fucking cocktail, and get me a damned bottle of sake."

"I don't need someone to order my drink, you know," she says, finally turning to look at him. Both her fine eyebrows rise up on her forehead, and she blinks slowly at him, as if finally realizing who he was. Looks like she's barely biting back a string of curses, for whatever reason.

She's got a pretty face, to match her bombtastic body. Smooth, yet with an air of aristocratic, long features. Red eyes, with heavy lashes. Eyes that look like they could stare straight into your soul.

"I insist. I'm a fucking gentleman, like that," he says, with a smirk. The barkeeper puts their drinks in front of them, and Hidan quickly bypasses the sake cup to take a drag from the actual bottle.

The woman stares down dubiously at her drink. She stiffly picks it up on her long fingers, slowly twirling the liquid around the glass. Takes a sniff at it, passes a finger on the rim of the glass, as if checking for it being spiked.

Or poisoned. She's doing a pretty damn good job at checking it, as if naturally assuming it's poisoned.

She takes a delicate sip, once the drink passes through her inspection. Smacks her pink lips, tongue darting out. And damn, is that a hot gesture he wants to see from her all night, if he can help it.

"Tastes like shit," she mutters under her breath, yet still takes another sip.

Hidan can't help but laugh. It's like she's after his immortal heart.

"You know, we match," he says idly, giving her a bedroom stare over the bottle of sake. "We're both fucking **smoking** , and we got that light-colored hair thing going for us."

All she says in reply is a noncommittal hum. He presses further, leaning closer to her. Her body naturally stiffens, muscles tensing. "What's a pretty thing like you doing here, in this shitty bar that's in the middle of fucking nowhere, eh?"

"Drinking," she says dryly, voice completely flat. " **Obviously**."

Again, he laughs. "You're a cheeky bitch, aren't you…?"

She gives him an unimpressed look. Then, slowly blinks, titling her head, as if in contemplation. Looks down at herself, as if barely realizing she had a nice rack on her. "Ah..."

"So, you got a name, babe?" he plows on, throwing her a wink. "The name's Hidan."

Her mouth twists, giving him an odd look. She pauses a few scant moments, before speaking. "Aren't you—what?—thirty, or something?"

Hidan splutters on his drink, cursing. "What the fuck?! No! I'm fucking twenty one. What the **shit**?"

"You have gray, greasy hair," she states, pointing at his head. Her mouth twitches, betraying her wanting to smile.

Okay, so she's finally giving a smile. Even if it's at his expense, it's showing that he's at least **getting** somewhere with her.

"Hey, my hair is fucking **natural**!" he retorts, feigning hurt. "White hair's not exactly common either, eh?"

She swirls her drink, giving a ghost of a smirk. "Are you trying to goad me into giving my name and age…? What's next, my bank account pin? Pretty rude of you, Hidan."

He instantly switches tracks. "Just Hidan, eh…? Classy lady as **you** , not using honorifics? I feel pretty fucking special, babe."

She just scoffs, taking a longer drag of her cocktail. When she sets the glass down, she's giving him an exasperated grin. "You don't know when to quit, do you…?"

"Fuck no," he replies easily, giving her his best seductive smirk. "But you'll figure that out, when you spend the night with me, babe. And I like getting a name to match a good fuck—so, what do they call ya?"

She gives a snort, before breaking off into laughter that she looks like she's forcefully trying to tamper. "Does…Does that actually **work** on people?" she says through snickers.

He puts a hand on his chest, magnifying how offended he feels, just to be dramatic. "Of fucking course it does…! Who **wouldn't** want to have a hot piece of ass, like me?!"

She just gives a shrug. "Your lines could use a bit of work…"

Well, she's not refuting him being a hot piece of ass. Which is a Jashin-damned fact of life. He could work with that.

Hidan downs another portion of the sake bottle. "Works with **most** bitches…" he mutters, trying not to pout at how **critical** this chick was, of his pick-up lines.

"I'm not like most bitches, though," she retorts, giving him a pointed look, eyebrow arched upwards.

"Nah, you're fucking **gorgeous** ," he agrees easily. He eyes her up slowly, unconsciously licking his lips. "And I can appreciate your clothing choice."

She gives him a deadpan stare, eyes half-lidded. "How typical, for you to just assume I'm easy."

"That what fucking happens, when you wear a miniskirt and an opened top that shows your goods for the whole world," he snipes, to defend himself. "I mean, **shit** , they do a fantastic fucking job in showing off your ass and tits. Ain't **my** fucking fault."

"Whatever," she says, rolling her eyes. She knocks back her glass, finishing her cocktail. "Thanks for the drink, I guess. Even if it tasted like fruit-flavored piss, it was a nice enough gesture."

"Hey, hey!" Hidan crows, feeling frustrated. He hasn't gotten her to his hotel room. Hasn't even gotten her name! And now, she's just **leaving** him, all horny and expectant?

"You haven't even told me your fucking name, and I bought you a fucking drink out of the **goodness** of my fucking heart," he growls, itching to grab onto her wrist and have his way with her, on the very counter.

She pauses, not yet standing up in her seat. She turns to look at him, giving him a dead stare with those intense red eyes of hers. "My name's not that hard to guess, actually. Pretty obvious."

He snorts. He hasn't ever heard of a girl like her, doesn't even keep up with the Bingo Books or gossip recently. How the hell does she expect him to guess her name right…?!

She points to her hair idly, raising an eyebrow in an expectant look. "There's your hint."

He glares at her, eyes narrowed. She hasn't moved from her spot, still staring expectantly at him.

"Fuck if I know…" he grumbles. "White? Shiroi…?"

She nods, though, giving him a lopsided grin. "See. Told you it was obvious."

Hidan blinks his lavender eyes, staring at her in bafflement. "…Seriously? That's it?"

The babe—Shiroi— stands up from her stool. "Good night, Hidan."

"Hey, wait! It can't be a very good night, if you're not coming to my place, Shiroi!" he calls out to her, taking a swipe at her to grab and stop her.

She easily sidesteps him, looking over her shoulder to give him a bemused look. "Sorry, no can do, handsome. I've got kids I need to get back to."

Shiroi leaves in a whirl of white hair. Hidan stares forlornly at her retreating form, cursing himself for losing such a prime piece of ass.

"Jashin damn it…She has kids. That fucking blows," he sighs, passing a hand over his slicked-back hair. "Just my fucking luck."


	7. Mei: Resistance

You all spoil me with the ridiculously amazing support given to this story. We've broken the 100 mark in follows, and 3,200 views. So, in honor of that—I've decided to do a double-update this week.

This chapter takes place after Shiroi picks up Kimimaro. It's a whopping 6k words long. Also, as a warning: there's some (technical) lesbian-ness flirting, in case you're a stickler about sexualities.

[Ages: Shiroi and Mei are 23. Kimimaro is 10.]

* * *

Mei: Resistance

* * *

The Resistance is losing more and more members every passing week.

Mei Terumī will admit, that despite being completely off his rocker, Yagura is damned good at sniffing out and stamping down the forces that oppose him. If he's not ordering his Hunter-nin to wipe out groups of her comrades… then he's finding evidence of some of his previously loyal ninja turning coattail, deeming them traitors to Kirigakure and essentially exiling them.

She's lost Zabuza Momochi about three weeks back. Not in the permanent, **dead** kind of way, but more in the ' _we can't fucking find him anymore, he just sort of got up and left_ ' kind of way.

Zabuza was one of her force's best in assassination. So the moron got a big head, and subsequently decided to go off on his own and try and kill the Mizukage.

Which **failed** , of course. Rather spectacularly, at that. He's lucky he managed to get out of the situation with his life and sword intact.

Ugh... That guy had absolutely **zero** impulse control, sometimes.

Last her network has heard, Zabuza fled Northwest through the Land of Water. And then the asshole all but **abandoned** the cause, spiriting away some kid with him.

Children had no place in a civil war, true…But **still**. It was the principle of the matter!

And Mei had considered him a friend…If not, at least, a **comrade**.

If he hadn't cut ties with the Resistance, then there would have still been hope that he could go across the Elemental Countries and try and round up some of his fellow Mist missing-nin. Their cause could really need the extra manpower. Or, at the very least, the perfect distraction and bait tactic against Yagura.

It would have also been nice, if Zabuza somehow managed to recruit the help of his fellow Seven Ninja Swordsmen. Well…Those that were left, at least. Ameyuri Ringo had followed Zabuza in joining the Resistance, but she died from some sort of disease two years ago, and her sword fell into custody of Yagura.

Kami knows, they could use the ridiculously destructive force of those insane, sword-wielding bastards. They currently only had young Chōjūrō on their side right now, and even if the boy was rather skilled for a Genin, he was still only twelve years old.

All things considering, the Resistance was down a **lot** of strong, promising members. It's a miracle she still has Ao on her side, alive and very safe within his infiltration of the elite ranks of Kirigakure.

The eye-patch-wearing man's skills and position within ANBU's Hunter-nin unit have been indispensible. He has a high clearance for a lot of the important information in Mist, and can see the movements of certain players on the field. He's also good when it comes to redirecting the Hunter-nins from their trail.

But Ao is just one man. He can't do everything by himself, despite how he always tries.

Mei let out a slight sigh, feeling the need to rub at her temples. Things are such a mess…

And standing in a loud, crowded market did not do any good for her headache, stress, or paranoia. But she came to Kurabu-Dokku to check up on her informant network—which was a prime place to do so, since it's a popular town, and a hotspot with all sheer amount of docks it holds. It's in the Western edge of the Land of Water, and a popular place for visitors and immigrants.

Well…Those that are stupid or desperate enough to stroll into the Bloody Mist, that is. It's not like the Land of Water was a civilian or tourist hotspot, like the Lands of Fire, Grass, and Hot Springs. But, it was still rather populated.

It could be the rarity of some of the fish Kurabu-Dokku caught and sold, that could draw some people to the seaport town. The selection of fish in the markets was actually rather nice, all things considering.

Because of all this…It really was a good meeting place, for her forces and network.

A young man casually slid into the space next to her, in the loud, crowded market. Mei did not startle, nor give any indication that she knew he was there. From his nondescript appearance, manners, and chakra, she recognized him as one of her informants.

"Mei-sama, I have a report from Ao-san," the young man murmured lowly, pretending to look at the quality of salmon in the stall in front of them.

"I see," she hummed. Discreetly, she shifted her hip nearer to the young man's hand, shifting her lax hand to take the small scroll from him, and slipping it into a pouch she held on the top of her thigh.

And just because she could, she gave a titter. "So, do you see anything you like?" she asked her informant coyly, eyes shining in amusement as the young man stared at her wide-eyed when she shifted her kimono aside to show more of her chest.

Must keep up appearances, after all. Already has her reputation. She might as well have a little fun with it.

"E-Er," the young man stuttered, face flushing slightly. "N-No…?"

"No?" she repeated, giving a playful pout. "Are you sure…? There are some very nice… **salmon** , right here," she purred.

"Um…Yes. Very nice," the messenger said awkwardly, avoiding her gaze and looking nervously at the **actual** fish in the stall.

"You're cute," Mei giggled, flicking a piece of her auburn hair. "How about you come visit me later…?" she said, slipping him a piece of paper that held the address of the place she would be staying, while information gathering.

She put a hand to his chest, tapping out a code, telling him to convene with his fellow messengers. To any other observer, she was just being her usual flirty self, teasing the flustered young man.

She pulled her hand away, giving him a saucy wink, and sashayed away from the fish stall she had chosen as a rendezvous point.

Mei casually made her way through the throngs of bustling shoppers, following the flow of the pathways they naturally created. Her next meeting was by the spice racks near the edge of the marketplace. But she didn't need to hurry there; it would only make her suspicious, if she was being watched by any of Yagura's spies.

No, she just roamed the market. Stopped here to look at the wares, dithered over there to flirt a bit with a cute shopper or clerk, asked a housewife what she recommended to buy in a way-ward stall. The usual.

As Mei finally reached the general area of the spice racks, she paused, leaning against a building's pole and making a fuss of fixing and smoothing down her hair. In her peripherals, she saw a head of blinding white hair, and forced her body to not stiffen.

A Hozuki…? Was there an information leak somewhere? Or did Yagura finally get lucky, and found a town full of the Resistance forces? Is **that** what Ao's message had entailed—a warning?

Looking under her lashes, Mei pretended to look at the prices posted on a stand opposite her. Instead, she was tracking the head of white hair, while trying to seem completely and utterly innocuous.

Tall. Hair in a ponytail. Long trench coat-like jacket. Fitted traveling clothes. Male.

But, no, that was not a man. Wearing men's clothes, yes, but most definitely not a man. Too large a chest, hips too round and wide. A woman masquerading as a man? No, the person isn't trying very hard to hide their soft features.

Pretty face, judging by the profile view. Red eyes. Smooth, pale skin. Good at hiding their chakra signature, too. If not for the unique looks and fluidity in how they moved, Mei would have thought them a civilian.

There is a child clinging to the white-haired woman's hand. The child's hair and forehead are hidden in a scarf-like wrap. That's deliberate—to hide traits of a clan, perhaps? Trying to make the child more inconspicuous?

The child is pale, with bright green eyes. Striking red eyelashes—no, those aren't eyelashes. Eye shadow? Tattoos?

Wait…Green eyes, covered forehead, pale skin, red around the eyes—a Kaguya, Mei realized in alarm.

But wasn't the Kaguya Clan wiped out three or so months back…? They had tried attacking Kirigakure—at least, that had been the official story, released by Yagura.

Ao had dug up information about the debacle, since it was so fishy. Turns out Yagura got ANBU to round up the clan members as a 'summons' to see him, and then he got his elites to cut down the entire clan. Even the ones that had been doing missions were called for an 'emergency', just so he could eliminate them in one fellow swoop.

There shouldn't be any survivors of that massacre, unless the Clan Head managed to hide some of their kids, somehow. It's not like there were many children in the first place, from the Kaguyas; their birth rates were rather atrocious. It's possible.

This woman isn't working for Yagura, then, if she has a child with her. Much less a child from a Clan of kekkei genkai users.

Mei slowly let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Seeing such a distinct hair color really set her off.

She needed a damn vacation. Being the leader of the rebellion force in a civil war was hard work. She'd get wrinkles and gray hairs, at this rate.

The auburn-haired woman straightened, pushing herself off from her previous position, leaning against the building she'd been loitering in front of. Carefully, she started to stride forwards, subtly tailing the white-haired woman and the tagalong child.

They were going to inland part of Kurabu-Dokku, near the dried foods of the market, the spices and breads popular in the Land of Water.

She was going in that direction anyways. Might as well see what they do…And see if she can gain any information on them.

The white-haired woman seemed somewhat familiar. If she wasn't a Hozuki, then perhaps she was someone else of importance…

Mei discreetly watched, as the odd duo stopped at a stand of handmade grilled sandwiches. Channeling chakra into her ears, the auburn-haired woman tried to pick up what they were saying.

"Here, Kimimaro-kun," the elder one said, handing a sandwich to the boy, after having paid a small sum for it.

"Ah—thank you, Shiroi-sama," the child said, eyes bright and a fond smile on his face.

"You're welcome. Now, come. Let's not dally any longer," the red-eyed woman said curtly, gently putting an arm around the boy's shoulders and steering him forwards, through the crowds. The woman was tensed and wary, eyes calmly searching the area.

So…She knows she's being watched. That, or she's very paranoid.

Hmmmm…Interesting.

Mei paused, sitting down on a crate between two stands, acting exaggeratedly tired.

Shiroi…Where had she heard that name from…?

Mei slipped a copy of Mist's Bingo Book from a pouch hidden in her blue battle kimono. The cover was outfitted with one of a cosmetics book, to play with her vain image.

With precision, she flipped through the pages. She did a quick check through the section on Kiri to double-check that the red-eyed woman was not a Hozuki. Then she skipped straight past Kumo, Iwa, and Suna—Mei's sure she would know, if those villages had this Shiroi woman in their ranks.

Mei flipped through Konoha, pausing on the page of the white-haired Sannin, Jiraiya. Her eyes zeroed in on the new addition to his previous, two-page spread, near the bottom corner.

" _Jiraiya has been seen traveling with a new apprentice the past few years, a young woman named Shiroi. Some speculate that she is his daughter. See the_ _Kusa_ _or_ _Mercenary_ _sections for her entry_."

Her eyes alighting in interest, Mei quickly leafed through the book, getting to the Kusa section first. The Bingo Books were always arranged to have the Five Great Shinobi Nations at the front, then the minor villages, before finally the other affiliated mentions (like mercenaries) at the back.

Reading the short entry—apparently, the white-haired woman had a much larger section devoted to her in the Mercenary section of the Bingo Books—Mei became more intrigued and excited.

A student of one of the legendary Sannin…Who is strong—she is listed as a B rank, which was pretty impressive, considering she wasn't even officially a kunoichi. No doubt, because of her connection to Jiraiya, and the constant travel, she has connections all over the Elemental Nations…

This Shiroi was an important player. Especially with monikers like Shiroi of the Hellhounds, and The White Flaming Death…

She was someone that Mei wanted on her side.

Smoothly stowing away the little book back into the folds of her clothing, the auburn-haired woman gracefully stood from her previous perch. She meandered her way through the market—noting that Shiroi and her charge were long gone from the area, no doubt because she had already known she was being followed.

Mei stopped and waiting near the spice racks, thinking of a dozen different things she could do. There were many ways to go about this, a lot of different paths a meeting could take.

She **needed** a meeting with Shiroi of the Hellhounds, and Mei most certainly needed it to have a good outcome. The red-eyed woman would be an asset, or even just a good ally.

As long as Mei went about this carefully and correctly…Organized all of this well enough…

The beautiful woman smiled to herself, feeling another of her informants slip into the space besides her, and they exchanged information.

"Shiroi of the Hellhounds," she whispered into her informant's ear, giving the pretense to onlookers that she was sensually trying to convince him to bed her, with how close she was pressing to him. "I need to meet her. She'd be a good ally."

With a calculating gleam in her green eyes, Mei Terumī started to act out her plan.

* * *

Mei is pleasantly surprised of how well her spy network is. Despite it not being perfect, despite all the setbacks that have befallen the Resistance, despite the constant pressure of Yagura breathing down their necks…It's still enough of a well-oiled machine, that it manages to keep close tabs on Shiroi of the Hellhounds.

From the reports she receives, combined with the entries in the Bingo Book, Mei learns much about the red-eyed woman.

Apparently, she's good at shaking off her tails. She is very casual and familiar in the slums and Red Light District. She is frugal, careful of her money. She takes down her opponents with skill and the least amount of energy possible. She takes odd jobs, when not hunting down bounties. She is very careful. She has a soft spot for children.

However, Shiroi of the Hellhounds is very hard to pin down, overall. Being a sensor, she can avoid pretty much anyone with an even vaguely shinobi chakra signature.

It's only been two days, and Mei hasn't managed to corner the other woman, yet.

Time is running out. Mei knows Shiroi knows that she's being closely followed and watched. Mei's watchers at the harbors have seen the white-haired woman discreetly asking the different ships about passage to the mainland.

Shiroi will be leaving the Land of Water, and trying to trap her is only making the red-eyed woman more paranoid and ready to fly the coop.

There is only one way Mei can see her forces being able to get the white-haired woman to stop and listen to them, and…It's a last resort. Not the best of ideas, either.

There is one major weak spot Shiroi of the Hellhounds has: the young boy she's taken under her wing.

But, if they make a move against the boy…She will do doubt retaliate tenfold. Stab first, ask questions later.

Shiroi will burn her way through their forces and rip them to shreds, if they even **near** little Kimimaro-kun. Mei can already imagine the carnage of such a stupidly reckless move, and can't help but cringe.

Any inkling of ill will towards the boy—even if it's with good intentions—will only turn the red-eyed woman against them. And Mei would much rather **not** have the woman be their enemy.

Better to not meet with the woman, than to do anything that would make her an enemy.

But it was just so… **frustrating**. Finding such a powerful person within their midst that would make a remarkable ally, at this time, was like finding pearls. A textbook **golden** opportunity, even.

Why did this woman have to be so… **difficult**?

Honestly, it was weird. Mei hasn't ever really had to work so hard to get what she wanted.

"It's almost like she's playing hard to get," the auburn woman mused to herself, under her breath, giving a bemused smirk. Her green eyes gleamed, as something occurred to her.

If none of her shinobi or informants could get near to the Sannin's student…Then why not enlist a bit of help?

* * *

It was the third day. No doubt, Shiroi of the Hellhounds would be leaving very soon.

It's now, or never.

It didn't take much trouble for Mei to tell one of her informants to pass a message to one of their fellow members, to pass onto a civilian Resistance member. Then, for that civilian member to tell an old man that lived next door that he ' _should really get someone to help you move all those boxes from the dining room into the basement, Ito-jii-san. I heard there's a kunoichi single mother looking for odd jobs, down near the Akasen. Maybe you should enlist her help?_ '

Considering Eiji-san was a civilian with no shinobi training, he, along with Old Man Ito, would no doubt lower the red-eyed woman's guard. She'll be more receptive to their watchful gazes, and considering her noble heart and need for money, she'll accept their request.

Then, Eiji-san will convince Ito-jii-san to allow Mei into his humble abode, so she can finally speak with Shiroi of the Hellhounds.

It's not a full-proof plan, by any stretch of the means. But if she only goes herself…Maybe that will be less threatening of a move, than if she had members of her forces to come to guard the proceedings.

Mei waits until it's almost noon, before she starts to slowly make her way down the cramped neighborhood. If Eiji-san and Ito-jii-san can keep Shiroi's attention for long enough, distract her enough…

The auburn-haired woman allows a wisp of her chakra to leave the tight confines deep in her stomach. It goes to her ears, to sharpen her hearing

The Resistance leader is at the door, and politely knocks.

"Ah, I believe that is my friend, Ito-jii-san," comes Eiji-san's bland, friendly voice from inside the home.

There is a click—an unlocking of locks—before the door swings open. The plain visage of the middle-aged man who had joined the rebellion force, is in front of her.

"Please, come in, come in," Eiji-san says, opening the door for her. Mei gives him a polite smile, slipping through, entering the living room.

Shiroi of the Hellhounds is standing, leaning deceptively casual against the doorway to the kitchen. Her sharp, assessing gaze, the careful blankness of her expression, and the strict set of her shoulders belies the tension she holds.

"Would you like some tea, Miss?" comes the old man's kind question.

"Yes, that would be wonderful," Mei chirps, noting Eiji-san leave the room, from her peripherals.

"How about we check up on the basement, and let the ladies rest and have tea, Ito-jii-san?" the civilian asks his neighbor. Mei watches as the middle-aged man gently steers the half-blind older man out of the kitchen.

The white-haired woman snaps her head slightly to the side, to watch the men. "I can still help you, if you wish," she offers, voice tight and perfectly controlled.

"Oh, no. You have done much to help, Shiroi-chan. Please, take a break," the elder refutes, kind and oblivious to the woman's tension.

Mei gives a honey-sweet smile to Eiji-san, idly tapping her cheek with her fingertips. A sign to the man, for him to give her time.

The plain man gives her a bland smile in return, nodding politely to her, and the red-eyed woman.

The house is silent, barring the noises and chatter from the men as they descend into the basement. Shiroi's body becomes even more tense, and she turns to stare straight at Mei, unflinching.

"It's nice to meet you, Shiroi of the Hellhounds," Mei begins, giving the other woman a grin. Politeness and diplomacy is always the way to go, after all.

"…This is a surprise, to be meeting you," the red-eyed woman admits. Her voice is surprisingly low in pitch, Mei notes idly. "Have you and your men been the ones to tail me the past few days…Mei Terumī?"

The Resistance leader merely gives a hum, in response. She doesn't show her surprise and pride, for the Sannin's student to know of her. "How about we sit down and have some tea, for this discussion…?

The white-haired woman stares quietly and intently at her for a few moments, before slowly nodding.

With careful, deliberate movements, the woman goes into the kitchen and sits down at the table. Her movements are like the prowling of a jungle cat, and her red-eyed stare is just as assessing.

When Mei sits down at the table across from her, taking a sip of the green tea Ito-jii-san had made them, she thinks it's lucky that she didn't go with a more **direct** approach. If Shiroi of the Hellhounds feels even more threatened than she does now, there is no doubt the woman will start summoning those demonic dogs she's so well known for.

Mei isn't quite sure if her Lava and Boil Release kekkei genkai would do any great damage against animals from the literal burning depths of Hell.

It's equal parts thrilling and terrifying, to think about it.

"So," Shiroi starts, voice deadpan. "What do I owe the **pleasure** of your…intense interest, and subsequent meeting?"

"You're not even going to let us do a bit of pre-banter?" Mei says teasingly, testing the waters. Such a forthright, to-the-point start throws her equilibrium off kilter, just a bit. She needs time to analyze the situation, and find which way will be best, to go forwards.

"Well," the white-haired woman drawls. "I'm flattered, but also a bit annoyed and creeped out. You know, with the whole stalking ordeal." She raises one of her thin eyebrows, going on bluntly, "I kept thinking you were after my bounty."

"And why would you think our force was interested in your bounty?" the auburn-haired woman plays along.

Shiroi gives an un-amused scoff. "Mist has its moniker for a reason. Excuse me for being **careful**."

The Resistance leader lets out a chuckle. "I apologize for giving you so much trouble. And, yes— you do have a bit of a point… But I would like to change that."

"You haven't given me a great impression, with your actions. Maybe if you take me out to dinner, I'll reconsider," Shiroi responds, voice completely dead serious.

The blue-eyed woman gives a slow blink.

Was…Did she just…Flirt back with her?

Mei gave a laugh. "I meant that I wanted to change **Mist** , to make it a bit more peaceful," she said, between chuckles. She appraised the woman across from her, shooting her a quick wink. "Although, I wouldn't mind having dinner with you, for certain."

A smirk twitched onto the pale woman's face, a glint in her eyes, as she tilted her head slightly to the side. "I can't make any promises. I have someone else, as a higher priority."

Mei hummed, passing a finger around the edge of her cup. "Ah, yes…Kimimaro-kun, was it?"

The atmosphere dropped forty degrees in temperature, in a split second. The smirk and playful glint within Shiroi's eyes are replaced with a tight line, and intense flames.

"I don't care who you are, or how many you have at your beck and call," Shiroi begins lowly, voice husky and filled with thick menace, a promise full of death falling from her pink lips. "But even if it'll be a shame, I will **ruin** your pretty little face, if you do **anything** to him."

The air is tense, thick with the condensed Killing Intent the white-haired woman emanates. Mei's breath hitches, her body trembling minutely. The force makes her feel like she is being pinned down, a hand grasping her neck, and sharp teeth at her throat.

For a few moments, Mei actually feels… **scared**. Her heart is pumping quickly within her chest, her palms slick with sweat. She doesn't remember the last time she's felt like this. Living in the Bloody Mist desensitizes most of its shinobi from danger, from fear.

She feels scared, but she also acutely feels aroused.

By the Sage, she always gave Zabuza shit for always getting turned on in a life-or-death fight…And yet, here she is. Getting all hot and bothered, because she decided to poke at a mama bear's protective instincts.

The suffocating Killing Intent leaves, as abruptly as it had arrived. Shiroi impassively brings her cup to her mouth, watching Mei idly—almost lazily— as she drinks the tea.

The shaken woman tries to force her heart rate back down, letting out a small breath slowly. She wills her hands to stop trembling, grasping her cup when she feels confident enough that they are steady, and brings it up to sip. Her throat and mouth became very dry, very quickly.

Shiroi calmly sets down her cup. Mei follows. The woman watches her, as she licks at her lips, readying herself to speak once more.

"That child has suffered enough. I wouldn't do anything to hurt him further," the Resistance leader says, keeping her voice even and firm. "What I—and my cause—hope to do in the future, is to help those with kekkei genkais. To cherish them, rather than try and kill them, unlike our current Mizukage."

Shiroi studies her face closely for a few moments, before seemingly finding what she had been looking for.

The white haired woman nods, giving a ghost of a smile. "Hn. I see…Yes, that makes sense. You have two kekkei genkais yourself… **Now** , you have my attention, Terumī-san."

"You mean, I didn't have it before…?" Mei says, forcing her voice into something sultry, batting her lashes in exaggeration. The green-eyed woman felt herself relax with the familiar act of flirting.

A hum. "No, you most certainly did," was Shiroi's slow reply, her eyes slowly raking up and down the other woman's figure. A slight smirk touched her lips. "I don't think I've ever met a woman as beautiful as you, to be honest. I'm bound to pay attention."

Mei pushed down the pleased feeling in her stomach. Instead, she gave one of her patented giggles used for targets.

"You're not a slouch when it comes to looks either, you know. I don't think I would mind making lilies with you," she said impishly, twirling a piece of hair on her finger, wondering how the other woman would reaction to the blatant innuendo.

"Oh, I would definitely take you up on that…If I wouldn't have to explain the birds and the bees to my little apprentice," the white-haired woman mused, a full-blown smirk on her face, and amusement clear in her ruby-red eyes.

Mei gave a laugh—loud, sudden, and genuine. "Yes, I suppose **some** things aren't for the faint of heart…" she admitted. She gave a shrug. "Oh well…I tried."

"That you did," Shiroi remarks, a lopsided grin on her face. Relaxed. Friendly, even.

Despite how the discussion started, things are finally starting to get to a good point. Now, how to broach the topic…

Except, it's the other woman that speaks first.

The albino's smile slowly fades, and she tilts her head. "You know… Mentioning Kimimaro-kun, from before, had been a very bad move, on your part. I've spent so much time keeping him safe and hidden, wanting to get him out of the country…"

"I understand. But that protectiveness helped show me how good of a person you were," Mei refuted, before her soft grin morphed into a teasing smile. "…Even though the Killing Intent was going a bit far."

The pale woman gave a cough, ducking her head slightly. A pink tint came to her cheeks. "…Forgive me. I **try** not scare off gorgeous women, but I suppose a bit of my mentor's quirkiness has rubbed off on me," she says, looking at Mei through her lashes.

Mei can't help but flash the other woman a coy smile in return. "Oh, Shiroi-san—you're much too pretty to scare me off, darling," the green-eyed woman replied.

"But, see—your skills would be very useful, in helping us reform Kirigakure," she goes on, leaning forwards slightly. "Having Jiraiya of the Sannin as a mentor must have given you many resources."

Shiroi made a slow, contemplative noise. "You're a rebel group, fighting against the Mizukage? Ballsy."

Mei flashed her a sharp-toothed grin. "Thank you. But we are known as the Resistance."

The auburn-haired woman lowers her voice, feeling it is time to finally drop the bomb, to get to the heart of this discussion. "And I am their leader. I am speaking to you, Shiroi of the Hellhounds, to ask for your assistance in our cause."

Silence permeates the air. The white-haired woman stares at her, eyebrows raised, blinking owlishly.

"In most instances, I would agree to be a part of this," Shiroi admits, a frown forming on her smooth face. "But I don't want to put Kimimaro-kun in the crossfire."

"We won't ask of you to fight for us, if you don't want to," the Resistance leader insists quickly. "But information, networking, supplies—those things will be very much appreciated. Anything you could spare, will be fine."

The red-eyed woman tilts her head, straight white hair falling like a curtain down her back, following her movement. She looks down at the tabletop, in deep thought, before speaking once more. "I don't know the full extent of his network, but I **do** know a few of Jiraiya-sama's contacts that could realistically help you. And, as for supplies…"

Shiroi takes that time to bite her thumb and do a set of hand seals. Mei has to hold in her alarm and natural reaction of making her own hand seals to combat the other woman's jutsu.

But all Shiroi does is summon a small dog.

The hound is probably older than a puppy, but not too large. The traits differentiating it from normal dogs is that it has a collar of bone-like material around its neck, as well as two horns that are five inches long, jutting from its head and curling over the back of its skull.

The leather shoes it wears with miniature wings on them, dog-sized white robe, oversized messenger bag strapped upon its back, and the small scroll containers strapped on its sides are also…unconventional, showing quite clearly that this dog was a Summon.

" _Herumiisu_ ," Shiroi introduces, gesturing towards the adorable little hellhound. "Herumiisu, meet Mei Terumī."

"Good day!" the dog says, with a chipper voice of a young man.

…Right. Some Summons are capable of speech.

"Herumiisu, I need you to find some of Jiraiya-sama's contacts for Mei. Weapons, food, supplies, and information within the Land of Water—she needs those for her group. Later, I will require your assistance to find them. But first…Please, get me my extra exploding tags, and spare weapon scrolls."

"Of course, Master!" the dog replies, before being engulfed in a sudden blast of flames, and disappearing.

Mei's eyes widen at the sight. The table didn't even get scorched…!

"Sorry for the abruptness," was all the other women say in lieu of an explanation, casually drinking from her cup of tea.

The auburn-haired woman blinked slowly, literally having to shake her head to rid herself of her tumultuous feelings. "So…That was one of your famous hellhounds?"

"Herumiisu, the messenger," Shiroi confirms. "He can find and deliver messages and packages, to most places."

Soon after, a small pillar of flames ignites in the same spot as before, and the messenger dog reappears on the table. The Summoner quickly flicks open the bag strapped on the hellhound's back, taking out two scrolls and fat bag, setting them on the table.

With a smirk, the white-haired woman opens the bag, to show Mei that it holds a ridiculously large amount of exploding notes. "I won't really be missing them, since I can make more," she says, an impish twinkle in her eyes, no doubt because of the blatant surprise on Mei's face.

"Also, the scrolls each have a list of seals, with a description and number detailing what each one holds," she adds, unrolling one to show Mei. The auburn-haired woman gaped, seeing each separate seal seemed to hold counts of various ninja tools up to a hundred. And there were many seals in those scrolls…

The sheer amount of weapons Shiroi just casually has sealed inside those scrolls…For just one woman, it's rather astounding.

With a practiced movement, Shiroi flicked the scroll closed, and pushed the three items across the table, towards Mei. "Take these, for now. I will send a letter through Herumiisu later, with any information over my contacts."

The red-eyed woman turned to her Summon, her expression softening into something akin to fondness. She scratched the top of the dog's head. "Good work. You can head back."

With a plain bark, the dog promptly disappeared in another burst of flame.

The Resistance leader leaned back against her chair, reeling from the eventful past few minutes, trying to organize her thoughts.

"…You really know how to impress a girl, Shiroi-chan," Mei says after some seconds of dazed silence.

The other woman seemed to be biting back a snicker. "I try, Mei-chan. I try."

Shiroi stands up gracefully from her seat, giving Mei a lopsided, half-smile. "When you become the next Mizukage, I'll be waiting for you to take me out to dinner, as a 'thank you'."

Before the auburn-haired woman can say anything—or even give a proper thanks—Shiroi of the Hellhounds disappears with a _shunshin_.

* * *

Mei stays sitting down at the kitchen table, staring blankly town at the items she had been given.

By the time Eiji-san and Ito-jii-san have returned to the kitchen, her mind is as scrambled as scrambled eggs. Her cup of tea has also gone cold. Her stomach rumbles, noting that it is time for lunch.

"Ah…Is something the matter…?" Eiji-san asks her tentatively, hovering by the kitchen table, nervously twisting his hands together.

The leader of the Resistance wanted to say that ' _yes, I am fine. I will be leaving now. Good work, Eiji-san. Thank you for your hospitality, Ito-jii-san_.'

But all that slipped past her fuchsia-painted lips was a barely muttered, "I think I'm in love..."


	8. Mui: Visits

Last chapter gained such a good reception, it's actually rather astounding. We broke 5,400 views and the 100 favorites mark...Looks like I'm managing to do something right.

So, I decided to write characters from Naruto The Movie: Blood Prison, because that's honestly the most back-story we've ever gotten on a minor village like Kusagakure. And that's just sad.

Shiroi is around 8 ish years older than Muku and Ryūzetsu. This chapter takes place in a span of multiple years. I ended up writing so much that it started to get close to 9k words, so I've split this in half. There should be a part two to this, next week. It'll mean less stress for me, during Finals week.

 _Reply to Fellow_ : I'm glad you liked the chapter! And whether Mei x Shiroi becomes an actual Thing...We'll see.

* * *

Mui: Visits

* * *

Most people do not visit Hōzuki Castle of their own free will. Rather, they are dragged in through the front doors, and kept locked up as new inmates. That, or they are the guards that work in the facility.

However, there are times when an occasional bounty hunter will come through. These individuals will check up on the bounty boards within the offices and lobby, or arrived to drop off a new inmate and pick up their award.

With all this in mind, Mui—the Master of the Hōzuki Castle—does not know how to feel when a young child ends up strolling into the very place most would try to avoid like the plague.

A small child of about Genin age— swathed in oversized men's clothing and a dark cloak that hides most of their features, barring their unique eyes, a blazing red like an inferno— literally **drags** a bound-up man twice their size and at least three times their weight, right up to the guards manning the entrance.

It is just about the strangest and most comical thing Mui has seen, ever since he has worked within Hōzuki Castle when he himself was a young greenhorn Genin.

"I am here to turn in this man. I believe he has been avoiding the hunter-nin, and imprisonment…?" the child says in a calm, flat voice. The question he poses is less a question, and more of a knowing statement.

"Did we just get bested by a kid…?" one of his co-workers whispers to another in consternation, hanging back in a far corner of the lobby.

Yes. Yes, they did.

Mui stares down at the bedraggled child, flanked by the two guards posted at the front door. There is no hitai-ate on display, but the cloak covers the child almost from head to toe, so that is no surprise.

Mui gives a gesture to the guards, and they lower their weapons, before opening the entryway. "We will give you the compensation at once," he says smoothly, keeping all emotion off his face and out of his tone, not betraying his thoughts about the young boy in front of him.

"Please, follow me."

Mui gestures for the young boy to follow him, turning his back to lead the child into the lobby. He snaps his fingers, and two of his workers scramble forwards to lug the man between them.

"Be careful of the tag," the young one says casually. "If it comes off, you'll have to deal with fighting him back down into submission."

The two workers pause, exchanging bewildered, alarmed looks between each other, before being much more careful with handling the new prisoner.

"Get him to the nearest holding cell, then," Mui orders curtly, changing direction, so that he is leading the small group into the prison proper. It only takes two minutes to lug the missing-nin inside one, and for Mui to use Fire Style: Heavenly Prison.

Mui notes the young boy perks up considerably after he does the technique. Those red eyes examine the missing-nin and Mui with curiosity and clarity that is very startling for his age.

"Fire Style…?" the cloaked child murmurs. "Interesting."

The Master waves off the two workers, and leads the child up to the office area for the payment. He's a Jonin; he's not worried about some kid, no matter if said boy managed to dispatch such a tricky opponent.

Mui barely steps foot into the office area of the castle, before two toddlers ram into his legs.

' _Of course_ ', he muses dryly to himself, in fond exasperation. ' _The commotion would have drawn these two_.'

"Muku, Ryūzetsu-chan," he starts, mouth twitching itself into a small grin, against his permission. "Didn't I tell you to stay in my office…?"

Attached to his legs are his dark-haired toddler son, and the pale-haired toddler daughter of Kyūzetsu, one of the wardens of Hōzuki Castle. Usually, Hōzuki Castle was not a place for children, but…Mui and Kyūzetsu did not have any other options but to bring their toddlers to work, both being single parents without means for paying babysitters.

The two children were forbidden and barred from going anywhere in the castle, other than the lobby and the offices. All the other workers tried to pitch in and keep an eye on them, herding them when able. It seems like they managed to get out of his office, and give the others the slip.

They'll be great ninjas one day with their stealth skills, and their ability of nearly giving everyone a heart attack from their recklessness and sudden disappearances.

"Tou-san, it's boring!" Muku pouts, giving his father a full dose of puppy-dog eyes. The little girl next to him also does so, following his lead.

From his peripherals, Mui notices that the cloaked boy's entire being seems to soften in the presence of the two toddlers.

That's a good sign. It shows that, despite all his skills, the cloaked boy still has compassion and humanity. A trained killer he may be, but he himself is still just a child, and wouldn't hurt innocent two-year-olds.

It makes the stern man a bit more…willing to let his charges interact with the red-eyed boy.

"Who's dis?" Ryūzetsu-chan asks suddenly, turning her pale, oddly patterned eyes towards the odd newcomer, having finally noted the boy's presence.

The red-eyed boy smiles—a soft, slight thing—and puts his hands on his knees to bend down closer to the height of the toddlers. "I'm Shiroi. I turned in a bad guy to your Tou-san. It's nice to meet you, Muku-chan, Ryūzetsu-chan."

The boy's—Shiroi's— eyes are crinkled, and his voice is patient and fond. No doubt, he has a soft spot for younger children. The probability of him being a threat to the two tots is starting to drop considerably, in the man's eyes.

The two toddlers gaped in awe at the older boy, gazes turning starry-eyed. "Weally?!" they exclaim in unison.

Shiroi-kun nods with an air of graveness. However, a faintly amused smile is still on his face when he confirms, "Really, really."

"Coooool," the two toddlers decide, bursting out into a fit of giggles. The laughter is music to Mui's ears, and he stops fighting the smile that wants to form on his face.

"I was going to give Shiroi-kun his prize for turning in the bad missing-nin. Let's get back to my office," he tells Muku and his childhood friend. The two toddlers smile excitedly, yelling ' _okay!_ ', before rushing off down the hall towards his office in a race, squealing all the while.

Mui leads Shiroi-kun down the hall, giving a hum. "So, Shiroi-kun…Care to explain how you managed to capture such an opponent…?"

"It was…Ten percent luck, twenty percent skill, fifteen percent concentrated power of will…five percent pleasure, fifty percent pain…" the boy rattles off, mouth twitching in amusement, as if telling some type of joke. Mui can't help but give a wince, because the rhyming is a bit like what the Eight-Tails Jinchuriki is said to do, in the Bingo Books.

"But mostly, it was just luck. I was underestimated," Shiroi-kun admits, giving a shrug, an air of nonchalance. It's a bit more of a straightforward answer that the Master of Hōzuki Castle can actually believe.

And it seems like the boy has little to no problems in admitting his faults. How…Oddly forthright and honest, for a ninja.

The boy is a young ninja, but seemingly has a code of honor. Whether it will last in the future, especially with the war, well…That is the question.

The two enter the large, cluttered office. Mui gestures for Shiroi-kun to sit at the only unoccupied chair the toddlers have not sequestered, placed awkwardly at the corner of the room. Once the boy sits, the two children scramble from their previous perches, as if wanting to rush over and pounce the boy, but Mui catches the two by the scruffs.

"Remember your manners," he chastises them. "Visitors may not like being pounced on."

The two toddlers pout and whine, but he gives them stern looks despite their pouting and grumbling, and they finally seat themselves back in the guest chairs. However, they don't stop smiling and staring intently at Shiroi-kun.

Mui slowly rifles through his desk, watching the three children through his lashes.

Shiroi-kun gives a slight smile back at the two young ones. "Ryūzetsu-chan, you have very unique eyes," he says casually, tapping at the space next to his own right eye.

"Wha's unique?" the little girl asks, head tilted slightly to the side.

"It means rare, or different—but in a good way," the cloak-wearing boy hums, lips twitching at the exclamations from the tots.

"Just wike yours, Aniki?" Mui's son asks.

"Nii-chan's are _you-neek-er_ ," Ryūzetsu-chan giggles, smiling wide with a pink-flushed face. "So preeeeeetty!"

"Boys not pretty! Boys _hand-some_!" Muku snickers, elbowing his female companion.

"Boys pretty too," the girl states, sticking her tongue out at her best friend.

Shiroi-kun looks to be biting down laughter. "Boys and girls can be whatever they want…But thank you, Muku-chan, Ryūzetsu-chan."

It doesn't take long for Mui to unseal a portion of the bounty funds—honestly, he's been going at a snail's pace, to see how well the red-eyed youth interacts with his two wards. He counts out the portion he needs to give to the young ninja. It's a rather sizeable bundle, all things considering, that he pushes across the table for the red-eyed youth.

"Here's your award," the Master of Hōzuki Castle says.

The two tots exchange pointed looks and pouts, already knowing that this is the time that most visitors will leave: once they've gotten their money.

"Will ya be back soon?" Muku asks the older boy hopefully, when he stands gracefully from his seat.

"I'm not sure," Shiroi-kun shrugs, calculating eyes roaming the office to the cork notice board behind Mui's desk. "Not unless I can get another bounty…"

Muku clasps his hands in front of him, and Ryūzetsu-chan soon follows. "Pweaaaaaase?" the two toddlers ask, turning watery puppy-dog eyes up towards the cloak-wearing boy.

The effect is rather devastating, because the boy's resolve seems to shatter almost instantly. "Maybe…Maybe soon, alright? I'll try my best."

The two toddlers brighten up instantly. "Aniki's da best!" Muku crows, while Ryūzetsu-chan squeals out, "Yay! Shiroi-nii-chan's so cool!"

Shiroi-kun's eyes widen, looking slightly panicked and uncomfortable as the two scramble off of their seats to hug at his shins. "Er…Th-thanks…?"

Mui, of course, sighs and goes over to detach the two leeches from the guest.

Even with the most burly and menacing of guests, they always seem to do this. They've become utterly desensitized to dangerous individuals, from being babysat in a high-level prison. No matter the fact that bounty hunters are usually very twitchy and have many dangerous, pointy weapons. Who know various ways to kill people.

Honestly, these two should know better.

But all things considering, Shiroi-kun is probably the youngest bounty hunter that's ever been inside Hōzuki Castle. He **looks** innocent enough…Even if he's probably very skilled, for becoming a bounty hunter at such a young age.

Even though that may be true, there is a… **purity** still within the cloak-wearing boy. A softness, despite the haunted eyes and mysterious cloak that swathes almost his entire body.

If Shiroi-kun comes back again soon, to Hōzuki Castle …Mui sees no problem with Muku and Ryūzetsu-chan interacting with the boy further.

"Sorry for that. They're both very…enthusiastic," he tells the red-eyed boy, before switching his attention to the two innocent toddlers. "Now, you two, say goodbye to Shiroi-kun. He's leaving now."

"Bye, aniki!" the two chorus, waving up at the red-eyed boy, who waves back in a halting matter. The boy quickly snatches the bounty award, shoves it in a pocket somewhere, and gives a strained smile as he slowly backs away.

Mui can't help but snort when the boy all but bolts out of his office. Completely and utterly unfazed when in front of an opponent, or the most notorious prison in the entire Elemental Nations. But two toddlers…? Apparently, Shiroi-kun is not equipped to deal with children.

Then again, Mui thought himself as equally incapable before he fell in love and had Muku…And now, here he was.

* * *

It's not a month later, the next time Shiroi-kun comes in to drop off another bounty.

Mui stares down blankly at the sight of the cloak-wearing child, and the adult they are lugging behind them. A strong sense of recognition and dejavu hits him, at the sight.

Mui orders for the bounty to be put in a holding cell, while he goes to check the Hōzuki Castle Wanted List from his office. The captured woman does not **seem** familiar to him, so he wants to check. Just in case he somehow let something slip from his memory, no matter how ridiculous that is.

The dark-haired Jonin rifles through the thick stack of records around his desk, but he finds only a small notice of the woman Shiroi-kun had captured.

"This woman you brought in isn't high-profiled enough to be kept here," the Master of Hōzuki Castle states, giving a pointed look at the red-eyed youth. "Do we **look** like an atypical bounty office to you…?" he can't help but snark.

The pale boys turns an interesting shade of pink, ducking his head and looking sheepish. "I…didn't know. I thought…" he trails off, mumbling.

The man sighs. "I **suppose** Hōzuki Castle could be used to give bounty awards and temporarily keep lower bounties…But then, the influx would stretch out our workers and resources."

"Hōzuki Castle was closer than Kusagakure. That's why I came here," Shiroi-kun admits, voice flat, but overall holding an air of embarrassment.

"I won't fault you for going for the closest route. **This** time." Mui counts out the small amount of bills from the treasury, sliding them across the desk towards the boy. "The next time, please only come with a higher-ranked bounty. The Wanted List, and the bounty boards, are in the lobby."

"Yes, sir," the boy says curtly, standing up and giving a short bow. He is at the door, opening it—and is promptly accosted by two toddlers that are doing impressive impressions of leeches.

"Aniki!" came the dual, excited squeals of said leeches.

"Ah…Hello, Muku-chan, Ryūzetsu-chan," the red-eyed boy says, voice and body stiff.

"We missed you!" Ryūzetsu-chan chirps, the same time Muku asks, "Aniki, who'dya catch?"

Shiroi-kun gives a half-grimace of a smile. "Ah…I've missed you two as well," he murmurs, hands hovering, giving a questioning looks over at Mui. As if asking for permission to touch his son.

How… Thoughtful. What an odd boy.

Mui slowly, casually moves around his desk, giving the red-eyed boy a jerk of his chin, acquiescing. The boy then slowly lays a hand on each of the toddlers' heads, ruffling their hair lightly.

"I caught a bad lady. But now I have to go," Shiroi-kun says, mouth twitching in amusement when the two toddlers whined and pleaded for him to stay. "I have to go catch more bad people. That's my job."

Mui takes pity on the boy, detaching the two toddlers from him, balancing each against a hip. The cloak-wearing child dips his head in thanks, waving at the two squirming tots, and promptly leaves.

* * *

Muku and Ryūzetsu-chan have turned three, and it's now nearing Ryūzetsu-chan's fourth birthday, in the winter. For the past year straight, Mui's two charges have asked him about their 'Shiroi-nii-chan', and " _When'll Aniki come back?"_

Considering the usually small attention spans and memories of young children, it is honestly a miracle that the two remember the red-eyed boy at all. Perhaps, it's because it's rare to see another child within the castle…?

Mui does not have the heart to tell them that he'd been very strict with the boy's next bounties having to be up to scratch, to be dropped off at Hōzuki Castle. Nor does the man want to bring up the possibility that perhaps the red-eyed boy is dead, because catching bounties is a dangerous job, and the war has been getting worse.

Shiroi-kun comes to Hōzuki Castle the third time, the first day of snowfall. The boy lugs an Iwa-nin behind him with grim satisfaction, up to the front gates.

Mui is quick to invite the boy inside the castle. With vindictiveness, his workers lug the Iwa-nin and throw him inside a cell, and the Master of Hōzuki Castle is swift and unforgiving in using Fire Style: Heavenly Prison.

"I'll have to make another seal, now…Worth it, for seeing that **scum** locked up, though," the boy muses darkly, eyes like burning flames.

"It is **always** worth it, if more Iwa bastards are locked up in our prison," the dark-haired man says lowly, staring coldly at the Rock ninja. "They deserve all they are given, for invading our motherland and destroying its homes."

The man lets out a low, controlled breath. Then, he turned, gesturing for Shiroi-kun to follow him. "You must be cold. I'll have tea ready, in my office."

"Thank you, sir," the boy says, nodding his head respectfully.

The two are quiet, traversing the cold, stone passages of the prison. Even when they go up to the higher levels, for the office area, the atmosphere is still rather chilly.

"We need to return Grass to its former glory," Mui starts quietly. "Grass has been the Elemental Nation's battleground for far too many wars. If we were stronger…Then we would not allow ourselves to be abused so readily."

"I can see the merit to that," Shiroi-kun admits in an undertone. "But Grass is only effective as a nation when it is neutral. The economy relies heavily on that. Logistically, Grass can never be strong enough as one of the Five Great Shinobi Nations."

The Master of Hōzuki Castle narrows his gaze, towards the younger male. "So, you are of the Grass Fruit Group, Shiroi-kun…?" he said, voice tight.

He's not sure why he had just **assumed** that the boy was for the Grass Flower ideology. Perhaps because he is a bounty hunter, who seemed to loathe Iwagakure ninja—a nation that seemed to constantly invade Grass, every single war.

How…Soft. Like Kyūzetsu, who has given her views to her daughter.

"I'm not joining factions, or talking internal politics with you, sir," the boy deadpans, pinning the man with an unimpressed stare. "I'm going to stay neutral on this issue. I can see merit and faults with both sides of the ideology, and thusly, have no inclination to join a set viewpoint, and make unnecessary enemies."

The boy rolls his eyes, muttering bitterly. "God knows we have enough enemies as it is, because of this damn war. A civil war or internal conflict **isn't** going to help matters."

Mui forces his body to relax, softening the previously stiff set of his shoulders. "How mature of you, Shiroi-kun," he notes offhandedly, voice deceptively bland, not giving away his thoughts.

"I try, Mui-san," the red-eyed boy deadpans, in return.

The two are nearing the end of the hallway, heading to the Master's office. A head of familiar white hair pops out of a nearby doorway, on the way.

"Shiroi-nii-chan!" Ryūzetsu-chan trills, tumbling out of the doorway. A few moments later, Muku scrambles out behind her, with a jubilant cry of, "Aniki's back! He's back!"

"Oof!" the red-eyed boy huffs out, when the two younger children hurtle into him. "Hello again, Ryūzetsu-chan, Muku-chan," he says softly, a slight smile on his face, as he ruffles their hair.

"Aniki, Aniki! It's been foreeeeeever since we last saw ya!" Muku whines, bouncing in place. "Where were ya?!"

"Sorry for taking so long. I was off catching more bad guys," Shiroi-kun answers. "I dropped off an Iwa-nin just now."

"Iwa's really bad!" Ryūzetsu-chan says, while her friend nods along. "Are they why you couldn't come faster?"

"…Something like that."

"Come now, children. We have to get Shiroi-kun his award, and then it's lunch time," Mui tells his two wards. For once, the two detach themselves from the boy, from their own volition.

"Will you stay, Aniki?" his son asks, turning puppy-dog eyes up towards the cloak-wearing boy.

"You must be cold and hungry from your trip. I insist you stay for lunch, at the very least," the dark-haired man says, giving a pointed look down at the red-eyed boy. The boy is alarmingly thin and pale, so a break and lunch would only do him a world of good.

It takes a bit more cajoling from the two young ones, before Shiroi-kun's resolve crumbles, and he readily agrees to stay for lunch.

"How much is lunch…?" the boy asks as he puts away his bounty award, when they leave the Master's office.

"It's only basic canteen food. Just two hundred ryo for it," the man lies. The canteen food costs much more than that sum, but he feels…well, somewhat **guilty** if he forces the boy to use his hard-earned money so quickly.

A bounty hunter only has enough money that they can make, after all. It's not a very **stable** way of life. Much less for a growing young boy.

Shiroi-kun is not one for chatting, but somehow, Muku and Ryūzetsu-chan manage to get the story out of him, on how he caught the Iwa-nin. The boy is very vague—no doubt because he does not want to inform anyone of his skills—but the two young ones are still rather enraptured by the tale.

It is more telling, all the things the boy does not say, than what he actually admits to doing. A young boy should **not** be so secretive…

Is this a byproduct of war? Will the cloak-wearing boy always be this paranoid, even in safety, amongst friends…?

Shiroi-kun does let slip, however, that he is Fire natured. Muku and Ryūzetsu-chan both leap up from their seats, jumping about and pleading for him to show them a 'cool fire jutsu'. The boy leans back, cringing from their loud voices, enthusiasm, and the request itself.

"He can't show you a jutsu in the canteen, Muku, Ryūzetsu-chan," the man scolds them. "It's dangerous."

Shiroi-kun stands, looking ready to bolt from the room, but the two young ones are quick to latch themselves onto his limbs. "Pleaaaaaase, Aniki?" they plead in unison.

The boy turns a wide-eyed, panicked look towards Mui. " _Help_ ," he even mouths.

Mui takes pity on the boy, and makes the two young ones leave the boy alone.

"Sorry, Muku-chan, Ryūzetsu-chan," Shiroi-kun tells them, voice strained, a grimace on his face. "Maybe next time."

He flees, before the two younger children can badger him further.

* * *

By some miracle, Shiroi-kun keeps returning every few months to Hōzuki Castle. Some visits come much later than others, but the boy always returns.

The red-eyed boy gets taller, and his walls always seem to chip away just a bit more. He entertains Muku and Ryūzetsu-chan with little ninja tricks, or vague stories of his travels and opponents.

Muku and his friend even manage to yank the boy's hood down, curious of how the boy really looked like.

Pale skin, with soft features. Short, choppy, hair that was as white as snow.

Shiroi-kun frowned, light eyebrows furrowing. "What was that for?" he mutters, pulling the hood back up on his head.

"You look like Ryū-chan!" Muku exclaims, gaping up at the boy. Ryūzetsu-chan, meanwhile, stared up at the young ninja in awe.

"I guess we sort of do, huh…? With the hair," the preteen hums, ruffling the young girl's long, white locks. "I've never had relatives, though. And Ryūzetsu-chan has different eyes."

"Shiroi-nii-chan is more my Aniki than yours," the little girl taunts her friend, with a grin, after a few seconds of silence.

Muku promptly pouts. "Nuh-uh!" he retorts. "Aniki is still my aniki, 'cuz he's a boy!"

"That doesn't make any sense!" Ryūzetsu-chan giggles, shoving her friend.

"It totally makes sense, Ryū-chan!"

With a wry grin, Shiroi-kun does the recognizable hand signs for the Henge jutsu, and turns into an boy that looks like a teenaged Muku.

"Uwah…!"

"Aniki used a Henge!"

The two young ones turned to each other, with wide grins. "Cooooool!" they exclaimed in unison.

At some point, Shiroi-kun even comes wearing a new cloak, because the boy is just growing like a weed.

The visits start to last longer, as well, as the months go by. Sometimes, Shiroi-kun will stay for the evening, teaching Muku and Ryūzetsu-chan about chakra or safety when it comes to handling weapons. When badgered, Mui will take the three children out to eat ramen, at the nearest ramen stand.

A few times—when the boy comes during the bone-chill of winter—he stays for a day or two.

"I don't have an actual home to go back to," Shiroi-kun admitted casually, one evening, while drinking tea in Mui's office. The two young ones were sitting on the floor, doing chakra exercises the boy recommended.

"No home…?" Muku asked, startled from his previous task of making his hand glow blue.

The red-eyed boy hummed. "Destroyed by Iwa-nin, a few years back," he admits bluntly, taking a sip of his tea.

The boy, of course, gave no more details aside from that tidbit. But, when he was readying himself to leave, the two young ones attached themselves to him.

"Don't go!" "Stay with us!"

"This can be your home…" Muku says quietly, burying his face into the teen's stomach.

The atmosphere turns quiet and tense. Shiroi-kun's face turns blank and icy. Dead.

"…So, you think I'll become a criminal, to live here in Hōzuki Castle, Muku-chan?" the teen speaks up, in exaggerated confusion, after the awkward silence. "Ah, should I feel offended about this, or…?"

"Muku-chan, you've got no tact!" Ryūzetsu-chan says, swatting his arm, and rolling her pale eyes in exaggeration.

"Geeze, I didn't mean it like **that**!" his son squawks defensively, with a pout. "And call me Muku-kun! Muku- **kun**!"

"I'm afraid you'll always be Muku- **chan** to me," the red-eyed boy says wryly, ruffling the younger boy's hair, despite his spluttering protests and the pale girl's giggling. "Just like Ryūzetsu-chan will always be Ryūzetsu- **chan**."

That very meeting—when Muku and Ryūzetsu-chan were six years old—was the last time Shiroi-kun visited Hōzuki Castle for the next few years. Not long after, Mui's son, and Kyūzetsu's daughter, entered Kusagakure's ninja academy.


	9. Mui: Visits (Part 2)

Great googly moogly, Finals are a pain. But I'm very grateful for all the support so far, even if these past two chapters are to do with minor characters only seen in an offshoot Naruto film.

Reply to _Fellow_ : Backstory is usually something great to have. Sadly, Kishimoto tells us almost jack about the other villages... And, it seems to be a trend for children in Naruto to actually be cute, before something tragic happens to them.

Reply to _Guest_ : Poor, tiny children…Hopefully their fates won't turn out to be too bad in the future.

Shiroi is just very awkward, and seems to have issues with affection and settling down at this age. She'd probably accept the sentiment, but won't return it *cough* likeatotaltsundere *cough*

* * *

Mui: Visits (Part 2)

* * *

It's spring. Ryūzetsu-chan and Muku are both eight. That's the time when an odd sight crosses Hōzuki Castle once more.

The Third Shinobi World War has been over for half a year, already. That past October, it is said that the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox wrecked havoc upon Konohagakure, and their Fourth Hokage died to destroy the beast.

It is at this point, that Mui believes that Hōzuki Castle's previously regular guest will not return. It has been so many months of peace within the Elemental Nations, and yet…No sign of Shiroi-kun.

Muku and his childhood friend ask him often over the red-eyed boy. The man usually redirects their attentions back to their shinobi training, or other such tasks.

No point in dwelling in the past. With enough time…The two children will forget about the cloak-wearing teen they call 'Aniki'.

That is what the Master of Hōzuki Castle believes, before they are visited by Jiraiya of the Sannin, and his apprentice.

Mui nearly stares, dumbfounded, at the sight of the white-haired man that is easily 190 centimeters tall, but manages to catch himself in time. The guards, however, are outright gaping with hero worship.

"We've got a little delivery for you!" the Sannin boomed, a wide smile on his face, as he bounced the limp body of a ninja that lies on his shoulder. A blank-faced young woman stands next to him, with an air of vague amusement. "We thought you'd appreciate a new inmate."

"Jiraiya-sama—it is an honor," Mui says, forcing his voice to stay even and calm, as he bows lowly to the man. "Please, do come in."

The Master of Hōzuki Castle is quick to lead them inside, ordering his workers efficiently. Many of them pause, and bow lowly to the Toad Sage and his companion. Those who do not, are running around in a frenzy, like headless chickens.

The Sannin lets out a bemused whistle, when four men rush forwards, taking the missing-nin off his shoulder. "Shiroi-chan, you never told me how impressive the service is," the man muses in his booming voice. "I'm glad you convinced us to stop by."

Mui turns to look back at the pale-haired duo—and does a double take.

Besides the Legendary Sannin stands a ridiculously tall, curvy young woman. She wears a long coat, boots, a kimono top, and a skirt, all fitted over a modest amount of black spandex.

The young woman has pale skin, white hair held up in a ponytail, and incredibly **familiar** red eyes.

"It's been a while, Mui-san," the young woman states calmly, an amused smile stretching on her previously arctic features. "About two years, actually."

"… **Shiroi-kun**?" the dark-haired man asks, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"No, the **other** Shiroi, that used to turn in bounties to Hōzuki Castle on a semi-regular basis," the young woman says dryly, rolling her eyes. " **Yes** , it's me."

Activity in the room pauses, as the workers also stare at the Sannin and young-woman-that's-actually-Shiroi-kun. Some of them have looks of vague recognition dawning upon their faces.

A loud pounding of footsteps echoes, followed by a call of "Tou-san!". Muku— Ryūzetsu-chan close on his heels—bolt into the lobby. His son's green scarf trails behind him, like a flag in the wind.

"What's happening? Everyone's panicking, and—" Muku starts, before his childhood friend claps a hand on his mouth. The two stop in their tracks, halfway towards his side.

" _Hajimemashite_ , Jiraiya-sama!" Ryūzetsu-chan squeaks, bowing to the bear of a man. She puts a hand on Muku's head, and bends him down along with her. "Say hello! He's one of the legendary Sannin!" she hisses at her friend, under her breath.

" _Hajimemashite_ , Jiraiya-sama," Muku parrots, before slapping his friend's hand away, getting out of his bow. He turns to look up at his father, a concerned pout on his features. "We thought something awful was happening, like a break-out, so we ran to find you, Tou-san."

"Next time, please don't leave the safety of my office," Mui says, fighting off a sigh. This is so very typical of them…He shakes his head. "We just have very important guests, in Jiraiya-sama, and his companion, Shiroi…chan?"

It will most definitely take a while, to wrap his head around the fact that Shiroi is not a young teenaged boy that he'd previously thought, but rather a pretty, young woman.

Said young woman's mouth twitches into a faint smirk, before she crouches down, facing the two baffled children. "Hello, Ryūzetsu-chan, Muku-chan. You've both grown since I was last here."

"Aniki?!" "Shiroi-nii-san?!"

Muku splutters unintelligibly for a few moments. "B-But, but…Y-you're a **girl**?!" he yelps, reeling backwards.

"Of course she's a girl! **Duh**!" Ryūzetsu-chan exclaims, smacking the boy's shoulder and rolling her eyes. "Shiroi-nii-san was always way too **pretty** to be a **boy** ," she sniffs, thrusting her nose in the air.

"Hey! You thought Aniki was a boy before, too!" Muku retorts, puffing his cheeks out like an adorable chipmunk.

Mui can't help but feel amused, as he watches the two shinobi hopefuls bicker. Jiraiya-sama himself is sniggering, looking like he's barely keeping himself from bursting into a bout of roaring laughter. Shiroi… **chan** 's smirk widens at the debacle.

"Hey, hey, no need to fight over it," the young woman drawls, drawing the attention of the two younger children. "I can still be your Aniki, and Shiroi-nii-chan."

"But that's stuff you call boys, and you're a girl!" Ryūzetsu-chan exclaims, brow furrowing in confusion.

This causes the young woman to give an exasperate sigh. She raises her gaze upwards to the heavens—or ceiling, as the case may be— as if praying for patience.

"I don't mind. Really," Shiroi-kun insists. "My sex shouldn't change how you think of me, or what you call me. Aniki's fine. Or you could call me Kyoudai, I suppose, if you **really** want to get picky about pronouns."

The two children exchanged glances, seemingly having an entire conversation through their eyes and quirking eyebrows. After a few seconds, they turn back as one, towards the young woman. "Okay, Kyoudai!"

The red-eyed teen gives a small, lopsided grin, opening her arms for the incoming hugs from the two young ones. She tilts slightly backwards, but manages to keep her balance, when Muku and Ryūzetsu-chan ram into her.

Jiraiya-sama gives a laugh. "Shiroi-chan, I didn't know you picked up some _gakis_ to be your little siblings…!"

" **They** picked **me** , Jiraiya-sama," the young woman says dryly, lightly ruffling the boy and girl's hair, and getting up from her previous crouch. "They're very…enthusiastic and persuasive."

Shiroi-kun also has a bleeding heart. At the knowing look on the white-haired man's face, the Sannin knows of this fact well.

The Master of Hōzuki Castle takes that moment to note his workers standing idly and blatantly staring at the small group.

"There's nothing to see here. Keep moving," he states, making a few hand motions at the room. Awkwardly and sheepishly, the workers start murmuring amongst each other and leave the room.

"Ah, are they leading our little present to the cells…?" the Sannin asks languidly, watching the four workers lug the bounty down the hall, for the stairwell. "Is that where you use your Heavenly Prison technique?"

"Of course," Mui says crisply, gesturing a hand towards the stairwell. "Would you like to witness it, Jiraiya-sama?"

"Heh—Do I ever!" the man boasts. "I bet it's one of those once-in-a-lifetime opportunities, so of **course** I want to see the famous Hōzuki Castle jutsu in action!"

"Please, follow me," Mui acquiesces quickly, bustling forwards and leading the legendary ninja, his apprentice, and the two ninja-in-training to the stairwell. "Muku, Ryūzetsu-chan—do not near the bars, and be on your best behavior. I am only allowing you down in the cell blocks, because I am with you."

"Hai, Tou-san," Muku chirps, as his friend chimes a " _Yes, sir_ ".

"You know…" Shiroi-kun pipes up, after a few moments, to her mentor. "I've already watched the Heavenly Prison technique being performed **twice**." A smirk is on the woman's face, while the white-haired man gives her a pointed glare.

"Rub it in, why don't ya?" the legendary Sannin mutters in…petulance?

No, that cannot be right. Surely, such a legendary ninja would be too **mature** to be petulant…

The group keeps descending the spiral of stairs, going to the levels that hold the cells proper. When the group reaches Cell Block D, the four workers are standing outside the cell of the new inmate. Thankfully, they are waiting for the Master's arrival, and his orders.

Mui gives the four wardens a nod, and they back away from the cell, to allow him through. The two young ninja hopefuls eagerly skip forwards by his side, but shuffle over to give him room, just as they've been taught to do.

A cycle through the familiar hand seals, and Mui thrusts his glowing red hand forwards, onto the chest of the new prisoner. Chakra-suppressing seals spread fluidly from the point of contact, like snakes, wrapping around the figure.

Mui stepped back calmly, noting the wide-eyed looks from the two eight-year-olds. Jiraiya-sama let out a low whistle, edging forwards and nearly pressing his face into the bars of the cell.

"A branded fuinjutsu formula, applied in the form of a ninjutsu…? Fascinating," the white-haired man mused, tilting his head, eyes squinted. He began to murmur to himself in sealing jargon under his breath, the words turning completely undecipherable after ' _using a chakra-storage containment point'_.

Mui will admit that he blanked out completely at the genius gibberish the Sannin uttered; with the glaze-eyed looks they had on their faces, so did Muku and Ryūzetsu-chan. Although, the Toad Sage's companion seemed to be following along without too much trouble, nodding along at certain points in the man's rambling.

"Ah, excuse me, Jiraiya-sama," the Master of Hōzuki Castle carefully interjects into the man's rambling. "Would you like to come up to my office for your reward, and tea?"

"Oh, yes, yes. We should probably get on with things," the longhaired man noted, giving a grin. "Though, I wouldn't mind if you had a little something stronger for you and me to drink, if you know what I mean."

With nary a moment of hesitation, Shiroi-kun reached up to whack the Sage on the back of the head. Considering the height difference of half a foot between them, and the completely unimpressed expression on the red-eyed youth's face, it was a comical sight.

"Hey!" the bear of a man yelped, frowning in exaggeration. "What was that for, brat?"

"No drinking _sake_. Not only is it bad for you, we will be in the presence of **children** , Jiraiya-sama," the younger of the pair said sternly, giving a glare and crossing her arms.

Mui's son took that time to add his own two ryo into the conversation. "We're not children," the scarf-wearing boy said, voice near a whine, pouting along with his friend.

"Are either of you thirteen yet?" the red-eyed youth asked pointedly, one pale eyebrow raised.

"…No," the two eight-year-olds sighed, grudgingly.

"Then I don't want to hear it, my foolish little quasi-siblings," Shiroi-kun said, poking the both of them in their foreheads, the edge of her lips lilting upwards.

Mui started to lead the group through the chilly maze of cells, off to the office area of the prison, deciding that now was a good a time as any. It wouldn't do to have his guests converse down in the prisoner's cells, when there was a perfectly spacious, welcoming office waiting for them.

Dryly, without looking back at the Sannin, the young woman added after a few moments, "And, no, Jiraiya-sama. This doesn't mean you've won. No alcohol for you."

The Toad Sage gave a huff, crossing his arms across his broad chest. "You never let me do anything fun, anymore," he grumbled, despite the clear undercurrent of fondness.

"It's good that I'm here with you, to curb your bad habits. You'd probably let yourself go, if I didn't, **old man** ," she shot back, giving a nonchalant flip of her hair, as she shot an amused look at Jiraiya-sama.

"Oi, I'm not old…!" the Sannin refuted.

"Old enough to be my father," Shiroi-kun replied teasingly.

There came more comical squawks and blustering from the ridiculously large man. "How many times do I have to tell you, I'm not—"

"Jiraiya-sama's your father?!" came Ryūzetsu-chan's awed question, interjected into the mentor and apprentice's friendly banter.

The loud exclamation echoed through the stairwell, as did the Sannin's subsequent spluttering.

" **Well** ," Shiroi-kun started pointedly, with a snicker. "I never knew my own father, and from what I can tell, it sort of fits—"

"We've been over this before! It's impossible for me to be your father—"

"Jiraiya-sama, you're not exactly a spring chicken," the young woman retorted, with a well-practiced roll of her eyes. "Based on our ages, it's a possibility."

"Woah…Having a legendary ninja be your dad must be really cool, Kyoudai…" Muku breathed, staring up at wonder at the two visitors. The scarf-wearing boy looked over at his father, flashing a bright grin. "But I bet my Tou-san's better than yours."

"He probably is," Shiroi-kun replied seriously, and the Sannin made a noise of offense. "Don't be like that, Jiraiya-sama—you literally just told me you still find it impossible for me to be your kid, so you're not exactly going to win a Father of the Year Award."

"But—but I had to help you through your per—" the Sanin stopped mid-word, as his protégé shot him a glare as fiery as an inferno. If looks could kill, the Sannin would be dead at least ten times over. The man's face flushed a slight pink. "Er… **woman troubles** ," he ended awkwardly.

Shiroi-kun's pale complexion steadily turned darker, as she glared vehemently at the uncomfortable, white-haired man. "I told you to **never** speak of that," she hissed at him.

Mui felt distinct, second-hand mortification, and decided to pointedly ignore the pair. For all Jiraiya-sama acted, it seemed like he had to act like a father to Shiroi-kun in certain…instances.

Muku and Ryūzetsu-chan were exchanging confused glances, unable to comprehend the conversation's sudden turn in subject matter. Before either naïve, innocent child could ask about what exactly their 'Kyoudai' and the Sannin were talking about, Mui quickly changed the subject. In a very blatant manner.

"Ah, you mentioned ages before, Shiroi-kun," the dark-haired man said quickly. "How old are you, exactly…?"

The five-man group stepped foot into the office of Hōzuki Castle, led towards the Master's office. The two children perked up considerably at the subject change.

"I just turned eight last week!" Muku exclaimed happily, puffing out his chest.

"Ah…Happy late birthday, Muku-chan," Shiroi-kun said. She patted the boy's head, causing him to beam, and patted the light-haired girl's as well. "And I suppose you turned eight in the winter, yes, Ryūzetsu-chan?"

"That's right!" Ryūzetsu-chan chirped.

"Congratulations to the two of you," the red-eyed youth said.

"What about you, Kyoudai?" Muku asked curiously.

"I'm fifteen…ish," Shiroi-kun said, after a pause, as if doing mental calculations. "I'll be turning sixteen in a few months."

Mui gave a surprised blink. "My…You really have grown, Shiroi-kun."

The Toad Sage gave a dramatic sniff, eyes twinkling merrily. "I remember when she was just a little, scruffy brat-ling…My little student is growing up! Becoming a woman, so quickly!"

The red-eyed youth whacked the man on the shoulder, causing him to let out a loud bark of laughter. "Tch…You're incorrigible."

* * *

The Master of Hōzuki Castle opened his office door, politely gesturing for the others to enter before him. The two eight-year-olds rushed in, as expected, plopping themselves on their two 'special' chairs. Mui had ended up buying them their own plush seats at some point to add to his office, just so they wouldn't take up the guests' spots.

Shiroi-kun stepped inside without hesitation, but paused to slowly survey the room. A distant look was on her face, a fondness in her eyes.

"It really has been a while," she murmured, voice with a tinge of nostalgia, before adding louder, "It's more cluttered in here, I think. And it looks like those two even got their own thrones.

"Of course we did," Muku said, a cheeky smile on his face. Ryūzetsu-chan gave a giggle, nodding.

The two visitors sat down, and the two children bombarded their wayward 'Kyoudai' with dozens of questions. They chatted, as Mui called one of his workers for a tea set to be brought in, while Jiraiya-sama slyly and casually asked him a few offhanded questions about the Heavenly Prison technique.

It was obvious that the Toad Sage had been very much interested in the technique. However, he was hiding his true interest through veiled, casual inquiries. Like a true ninja, really. Mui felt rather honored to be speaking so lengthily with the man.

As Shiroi-kun asked the children about their time at school, the Sannin paused, setting his cup down and slowly taking out a slip of paper from his pocket. Casually, the man set it down on Mui's desk.

The dark-haired man leaned forwards in interest. The paper looked like a seal. Mui was as far from an expert in fuinjutsu, but he was sure that it was not an explosive, restraining, or storage seal.

"For privacy," the Sannin explained in an undertone, gaze sliding over to the three young ones in the room. He flickered his fingers in a small sequence of a code, and Shiroi-kun casually, lazily repeated a different code sequence, pretending to fiddle with her long hair.

"Should we stay in my office for this conversation?" the Master of Hōzuki Castle asked, voice dry. But his heart was beating fast and hard within his ribcage, while he held a calm exterior.

If this conversation needed so much security…Was it safe for his charges to stay in the room? Shouldn't they go to a more secure room? Should the two men even be **having** such a sensitive talk?

"Just needed to ask something, is all," Jiraiya-sama said lightly, a small notebook in his hand. He idly flipped through it, tapping a pen, as if some sort of interviewer for the local paper.

The dark-haired man held a distinct feeling that this 'something' was not a very light topic. Nor that, for all his posturing, that the Sannin was so nonchalant with any information he held in his possession.

That little notebook held innocently in that bear of a man's hand could hold more secrets than Mui's office alone.

"And what may that question be, Jiraiya-sama?" the Master of Hōzuki Castle asked steadily, noting from his peripherals that Muku and Ryūzetsu-chan have not noticed anything even mildly amiss. They were quite enthralled with Shiroi-kun.

"Eh…Just wondering if you've heard anything about my traitorous team mate, is all," the white-haired Sannin said languidly. As if he asked this to just about anyone he's crossed, and Orochimaru of the Sannin **wasn't** a very pointed, very sensitive person to gather information over.

Mui frowned down at the desk, trying to remember any whispers he's heard lately, over anything that could be connected to the Snake Sannin. Orochimaru is known for his snakes, but also for kidnapping and experimenting on children, for that's what he had been outed from the Leaf Village in doing, not long ago. It makes perfect sense, that Jiraiya-sama is trying to find any lead that could help him.

"Some of the Grass Flower group have been restless," the dark-haired man starts slowly. "Northwest, there is an area that seemingly no one can access. Some that have tried searching have disappeared. The cases of missing children from that area have gone up slowly. I am unsure if that is at all connected to **that** man, however…"

"It's suspicious," Jiraiya-sama agreed, in an undertone. The pencil danced across the pocketbook in his grasp, the ' _scratch scratch scratch_ 'ing furious. "Thank you. That's very helpful. I'll try and look into it."

"Of course," Mui nods, feeling slightly relieved, despite the tenseness of the conversation and situation. The Sannin puts away his notebook and pencil with a sleight of hand, and casually detaches the seal that he previously put on the desk.

It unnerves him, to even **consider** such a traitorous, strong man to be slithering around in Grass. But, if the Toad Sage is trying to find him, and will look into this situation, before it can get worse, then…

Well, it's the best that he can hope for, really. It will lower the risk to Muku and Ryūzetsu-chan, if the situation could be dealt with, before they stumble into it…

The dark-haired man turned his attention to the group of young ones, feeling the stiff set of his shoulders lax, and the thrumming of his heart slow. The two children look happy and well, chatting animatedly with the teen girl.

"Kyoudai, do you think you can teach us a fire jutsu?" the pale-haired girl asked her senior, her eyes wide and pleading.

The dark-haired boy's eyes sparkled at the thought of learning a fire jutsu. "Can you, can you?! Pleaaaase, Kyoudai?"

The father managed to catch this new discussion, and gave a small sigh. Despite Nature Transformation being a very difficult subject, the pair were enamored with learning Fire jutsus in the near future.

"How do the two of you even know if you're Fire Natured or not…?" was Shiroi-kun's reply, a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Fire jutsu comes easier if you have a matching chakra nature."

The two ninja hopefuls exchanged a long look, before turning back to the red-eyed youth.

"You're a sensor, right…? Can you tell what nature we've got?" Muku asked hopefully.

The young woman shot the two men a look, eyebrow pointedly raised at Mui.

"Can you truly do that, Shiroi-kun…?" the dark-haired man pondered, curious.

"Somewhat. It's easier if the person in question only has one affinity," was the teen's shrug. She turned back to the two eager children, staring at them for a long stretch, until they started fidgeting in place. "Yes, the two of you are Fire Natured," she finally said, resignedly.

The two ninja hopefuls leapt out from their chairs, wide smiles on their faces. Ryūzetsu-chan gave a cheer, whilst Muku whooped and thrust his fists into the air.

"But just because you're both Fire Natured, doesn't mean I'll teach you a fire jutsu," the red-eyed youth said, smirk in place and eyes twinkling, at the two children's mood turning on a dime.

"Ehhhhhh?!" Ryūzetsu-chan cried out

"Kyoudaaaaai! No faaaaaair!" Muku howled.

Shiroi-kun began to snicker, and Jiraiya-sama started to laugh uproariously. "Bwahaha! You sure got 'em good, Shiroi-chan!"

"Sorry, Ryūzetsu-chan, Muku-chan," the red-eyed young woman said, forcing her face into neutrality. Her mouth twitched upwards too much for it to be very convincing. "But you see, I'm not as good as Jiraiya-sama, when it comes to Fire jutsus…He's a master, and knows a lot more techniques than I do. He'd be a much better teacher…"

In an instant, the two children whipped their attention over to the white-haired man, jumping on him like rabid squirrels. "Can you teach us?!" "Please teach us, Jiraiya-sama!"

The two clung onto the man's sides like leeches. Jiraiya-sama was gaping, aghast, face pale.

"H-Hey!" the Sannin choked out. "That's not fair! Foul play, foul play!" he waved his arms over to his protégé, who simply gave a smirk.

"Mmmm, sorry, Jiraiya- **sensei**. I'm just your student, you know," Shiroi-kun said lightly, with faux-innocence.

"Why, you little…!"

"Muku, Ryūzetsu-chan, please let Jiraiya-sama go," Mui hummed, biting back a fond sigh. He gracefully stood from his seat, snagging the two children by the scruffs of their shirts, tugging and pulling them away. "It's almost dinner time. Go wash up and get ready."

"Awwww," the two children whined, deflating slightly.

The Sannin gave a pointed cough. "I think that's our cue to leave. We've already encroached too much on your kindness and hospitality, Mui-san," he said, standing up from his seat, effectively towering over everyone in the room.

"It was a pleasure to have you visit Hōzuki Castle, Jiraiya-sama," Mui said quickly, giving a polite bow to the older man. "And it was good to see you again, Shiroi-kun," Mui added, giving the grown teen a small, lopsided smile that was seen by very few.

"Kyoudaaaai!" "Shiroi-nii-san!" the two children called out, attaching themselves to the teen in an enthusiastic hug.

"We'll miss you!" Muku wailed.

"C-Come back soon, please?" Ryūzetsu-chan asked, meekly.

"Yeah! A-And then you can teach us cool new jutsus, next time!" the scarf-wearing boy suggested, as he pulled back. "You will, right, Kyoudai?"

The red-eyed young woman squatted down, to be at the eye level of the two eight-year-olds. "I'll be traveling across the Elemental Countries with Jiraiya-sama," Shiroi-kun explained, voice soft and firm. "So, I don't think we'll be able to visit much, if at all… **But** , I can write you letters."

Here, the red-eyed youth gave a slight, teasing smirk. "You both know your kanji, right…? You know how to write letters?"

The two ninja hopefuls nodded their heads quickly, giving affirmations.

"If all else fails, I'll just badger Jiraiya-sama to let me borrow his Summons to deliver you the letters straight to Hōzuki Castle," Shiroi-kun said, shooting a pointed look over at the Sannin.

The white-haired man gave a dramatic, loud sigh, looking up at the ceiling of the office once subjected to two hopeful pairs of puppy dog eyes. "Yes, yes…I **suppose** one of my toads will volunteer to be your little mailman, Shiroi-chan…"

"We'll definitely write!" the light-haired girl chimed.

"Lots and lots!" the dark-haired boy promised enthusiastically.

"Mui-san, I hope you'll inform me if you hear anything over **that** man," Jiraiya-sama murmured, off to the side with the other male. The dark-haired man gave a curt nod, and the Toad Sage gave a grim, grateful smile. "Thank you."

Louder, the white-haired Sannin called out, "Alright, Shiroi-chan—we're off!"

"Take good care," the young woman murmured quickly. She ruffled the hair of both eight-year-olds, before quickly stepping in line with the Sannin, and casually throwing over a scroll to both children.

Muku and Ryūzetsu-chan caught the projectiles, even if they fumbled a bit. They shot each other curious glances.

"It's your late birthday presents," Shiroi-kun explained, before they could ask. The two ninja hopefuls gave wide, excited, beaming smiles. "It was good to see you three again," she said over her shoulder, giving the trio a short wave, before the pair of travelers left the Master's office.

…Even though it will be unlikely to have Shiroi-kun come again in the near future, Mui distinctly feels that this will not be the young woman's last visit.


	10. Rin: Kannabi

All of your support astounds me. To show you my gratitude I, of course, am going to give you a 7k chapter…That will break your hearts.

You're all going to hate me for this chapter. I can already tell. B)

Shiroi is 15. Kakashi, Rin, and Obito are 13. Minato is 23. This is the Kannabi Bridge Mission.

Reply to _Fellow_ : Jiraiya and Shiroi have such good, student/mentor banter. And everything's better with adorable children to balance out the death and destruction of this universe.

Reply to _Random Reader_ : Thank you! I decided to write Third Person just because First Person is so common in the SI-OC genre, and I wanted to spice it up a little.

Fun fact... I was inspired of posting chapters in random order from the great fanfic, How Long Is Forever? by tradition _._ If you all haven't read it, I highly recommend it. It's a Naruto Timetravel AU fic, and it's done very well.

* * *

Rin: Kannabi

* * *

This mission has gone very, very wrong very, very quickly.

One moment, Rin is with her team, heading to Kannabi Bridge in the Land of Grass for an important mission. The next moment, Iwa shinobi are upon them.

She's not sure what happened to her boys. The last she saw, the two were furiously battling through the horde that ambushed them.

Rin is a medic-nin before everything else. She has never been a frontline fighter. It was truly too easy for the enemy to kidnap her.

In a confusing whirl of movement, Rin was taken to a secret base. Interrogated. Thankfully, they don't do much to her, barring making her undergo a high-level genjutsu. She had almost resigned herself to having to regulate the last amounts of her chakra in her pelvis for when—

Well... It was a good thing a medic's skills were so valuable. Rin was much more useful, healthy and well. It would be easier to heal the wounded she was presented with, as per what the Iwa shinobi gave her; she heals their comrades, they won't torture or hurt her further.

She's in a dank cave. Typical base for ninja who have Earth affinities, really. It is dark, and stuffy. She's bound and exhausted, and has a concussion. There are many Iwa-nin and strong opponents between her and freedom.

Not a good place to be in. It could most certainly be worse—almost all the ninja in the cave are grown men, and she is a helpless teenage girl… But as it is, things are looking very much bleak.

It's doubtful that Kakashi-kun will want to rescue her. Obito will probably come for her alone. He won't be able to beat the Jonin level opponents guarding the entrance. There's a high chance that Obito will die trying to save her, because he never abandons those that need his help; that's his ninja way.

With Obito trying to save her, Kakashi-kun will go alone and fail in his mission of blowing up Kannabi Bridge. There could be more enemies between him and the bridge, and could get overwhelmed.

Or, Kakashi-kun could succeed. Then what…?

He'll report back home. Mission accomplished. But Obito will be dead, and Rin will still be captured.

If, by some miracle, the two come, plow down all the enemies, and save her…If there's no casualties on their end, no life-threatening wounds, they can accomplish the mission and go back to Konoha. That's the best case scenario, but Rin isn't sure if it's the most accurate.

So, Rin just closes her eyes, and waits for her fate.

* * *

They're here.

At first, Rin thinks they're a figment of her imagination, something her brain created in order to keep her from losing hope.

But the figment is much too realistic, with the exact nuances of their clothing, their voices, their weapons, their movements. They're real—the two teenage boys who are sneaking in, working in tandem to silence the guards and kill them quietly.

Her boys have come to save her.

The two crouch before her, taking off her bindings. Obito's arms are instantly around her, hugging her to him. And Rin can't help but cry in relief, just for a few precious moments, safe within his arms.

She then breaks the hug, instantly asking them if they're okay. Her hands automatically move into the seals for the Mystical Palm jutsu, in order to heal her concussion.

One of Kakashi's eyes is gouged out—the left one. By Obito's quick recount of events, the ninja named Taiseki was responsible. When Rin finishes reorienting herself, she instantly shifts to heal it.

But then, enemy ninja rush into the cave. There are so many, and—

The two boys are instantly on their feet, kunai leaving their hands. Her teammates are readying themselves for a second round, despite their utter fatigue.

Kakashi and Obito are like a hurricane, working in perfect tandem, deflecting and throwing weapons and slinging jutsus. Obito's eyes are bright crimson, glowing so distinctively bright in the dark atmosphere that even Rin can see them from her position in the back of the cave.

Rin stumbles to her feet, leaning against the cave wall, despite the weakness in her legs. She hasn't stood in many hours, and the initial interrogation methods had been primarily heavy hits to her legs, so it would minimize the chance of her running away.

Rin takes that time to rush into the foray, behind her two teammates, in order to support them. Hope wells within her chest—hope that the best case scenario will happen, and they will get out of this situation alive and well— before it is dashed.

One of the Iwa shinobi—Kakko, the man who had primarily kept her imprisoned, the bastard who had kidnapped her— goes through a quick series of hand seals. "Earth Style: Rock Lodging Destruction!" he yells.

In that instant, Rin takes her teammate's arms, surging forwards.

Kakko's jutsu causes the cave to collapse around them.

Her team bolts for it, as if one entity. Nothing matters, but getting **out**. Not even the pain in Rin's legs can slow her down.

The ceiling is collapsing around them. Rocks, boulders, dust—they all rain down upon their heads.

The entire debacle shouldn't have lasted more than a few seconds. But before she can react, it's over.

After the smoke and panic clears, Rin stumbles over a few paces to the debris. Kakashi is sprawled on the ground, staring in horror at a particularly large boulder.

Rin looks over at where Kakashi's one-eyed gaze is frozen, and she instantly claps a hand over her mouth, tears springing up in her eyes.

Obito is trapped. The right side of his body is crushed under the boulder.

* * *

The next few minutes are as excruciating as her interrogation, from hours before. The emotional pain manifests claws and rips through her chest and heart.

Seeing her best friend from childhood like that…The pain it causes her is unbearable.

Obito loses hope. None of them know an Earth jutsu that can get him out from under that boulder. They don't have any tools to help.

The Uchiha offers his intact Sharingan eye to Kakashi as a late present for his Jonin promotion. Rin performs the surgery.

She wills her hands to still, to not shake. Wills down her tears, so they don't cloud her vision. Wills down her rampant emotions, so that they won't interfere with her chakra, making it fluctuate and ruin the chakra control needed for the procedure.

It is nerve-wracking. Doing this operation in a dark, dank cave is completely unsanitary. The rest of the cave could collapse, or there could be enemy reinforcements. Every second the operation lasts, is one more second of excruciating pain for Obito and Kakashi.

They only have enough time to say goodbye, before Kakko comes back into the fray. Enemy reinforcements start to manipulate the earth of the cave, causing Rin and Kakashi to abandon Obito. Their teammate. Their **friend**.

Kakashi uses his newly acquired Sharingan to cut through the enemy forces like a machine of war. Six Iwa-nin hit the ground, dead, before another figure jumps into the fray.

Kakashi almost lobs a kunai at the newcomer, aiming for a hit between the eyes. But the cloaked figure slashes open two throats of the enemy ninja, and he instead flicks the kunai at an enemy that is three meters behind the figure's left shoulder.

The cloaked figure is attacking the Iwa shinobi. It doesn't matter if they are an unknown. For now, it's obvious that they are an ally.

Rin has a passing thought of the cloaked figure being vaguely familiar, before she rushes in to engage three enemies that are advancing on her.

* * *

The entire debacle can't have lasted more then ten minutes. Despite the ridiculous number of Iwa-nin that the small trio engages, they somehow manage to come out victorious.

There is only a short moment of peace, before Kakashi whirls, rushing at the cloaked figure with a kunai in hand.

The cloaked figure parries his initial blow. The two kunai grind against each other, causing sparks to fly.

"Stop!" a voice cries. Rin realizes belatedly that it came from the cloaked figure.

"Who are you?" Kakashi snarls, entire body tensed, yet his voice has an undercurrent of fatigue.

"I just helped you fight off the Iwa-nin, you **jackass**. At least stop attacking, so I can answer…!" the cloaked figure says in frustration. The voice is strangled and high pitched. A girl.

"Kakashi-kun, she helped us," Rin speaks up, slowly moving forwards. "Maybe even saved us."

A tense moment passes, before Kakashi finally pulls back, disengaging. He still keeps his kunai out, in his hand, but at least he's not attacking the newcomer.

Rin can see the girl better, when she is standing at Kakashi's side. The cloaked girl has bright red eyes—reminding Rin of the Sharingan, and sending a jolt of pain and guilt within her heart.

Disheveled, white hair also peaks from under the hood of the cloak. The girl is wearing men's clothing in dark colors, and looks to be carrying an entire armory on her person, as if geared up to fight an entire war alone.

"I'm an…ally," the red-eyed girl says, slowly and cautiously. Her voice is low and calm.

"Why would you help us…? You're a total stranger," Kakashi asks, trying to grill the newcomer.

The cloaked girl's gaze drifts over, to the corpse-littered cave floor. "I don't… particularly like Iwa ninja. I saw a large group mobilizing, and found it suspicious, so…I tried to follow them. And here I am."

Bells are ringing within Rin's mind. This cloaked girl seems familiar, in a hazy sense. Where has she met this girl…?

"What is your name?" Kakashi presses. "Your affiliation? I don't exactly see you wearing a hitai-ate in plain sight."

An odd look comes on the pale girl's previously blank face. One that is almost nostalgic. "I'm no one important. And I live in Grass."

The dots slowly connect, despite Rin's mind being muddled and addled with pain and guilt and adrenaline.

"You're—you're that girl from before!" the girl with the tattooed cheeks gasps. "The one from Kusa's Capitol, who gave us directions…! You said just about the same thing a year ago, and you look almost identical to before. Except for, um, getting even taller…"

The tall girl confirms Rin's assumption, when her red eyes widen in surprise, pale face paling further. "Shit—you actually remember that…?"

Rin is too tired to be able to properly read and interpret the expressions on the girl's face, and the different tones in her voice. But her teammate—her **only** teammate left, now that Obito is, is—sneers suspiciously at the red-eyed girl.

"What are the chances, of you coming to our aid, when a year has passed and you've only met us **once** …?" the young Jonin grits out, hand twitching, looking like he **really** wants to chuck the kunai at the newcomer. "It's incredibly…convenient."

The cloak-wearing teen gives a tired huff. "Look. You may be wary of me, but I **tried** to save your lives," she grouses, slowly putting her hands in a peaceful gesture. "Shouldn't you worry about…Oh, I don't know—more enemies coming? Your squad?"

"Minato-sensei is at the front lines, and Obito is dead. Worrying about them can't help the two of us here," Kakashi replies, voice tired and dead, before shifting into something more scathing. "Maybe if you'd **tried** a little **earlier** , you could've stopped the cave from collapsing, and—"

" **Kakashi** ," Rin snaps, abhorred at his behavior, as the red-eyed girl stiffens defensively. "She isn't to blame!"

"The man who did that—Kakko—is already dead…We've gotten our revenge," she goes on, voice quiet and melancholic. She grasps her teammate's arm gently, and he deflates, head ducked down.

A burning begins once more in Rin's eyes. She has to forcefully blink the tears down, so that she won't break into hysterical sobbing, and never stop.

A heavy silence befalls the group, before the cloak-wearing girl breaks it. "I understand."

At the two Leaf ninja looking at her, the girl goes on. "Iwa shinobi wiped out my entire village...And every day, I wonder…What if I was faster? Stronger? Could I have been able to save someone…?"

The Grass girl looks over towards the wall of fallen boulders. Her pale face seems pained. "I…Was late again, it seems," she says quietly. "Whether you blame me or not, I'll still blame myself…For not being able to help more."

"No, no—You've done enough," Rin insists, voice weak and tired. "We would have been overwhelmed, if you didn't help us. Then the three of us would be dead, with nothing to show for it."

The cloaked girl suddenly tenses, her head snapping over to stare at Kakashi.

Rin and Kakashi share a quick look of confusion and unease, before a familiar flash of yellow is before them.

* * *

"Minato-sensei!" the two young teens chorus together, in relief, at the sight of their teacher appearing before them in his signature jutsu.

That was right…Sensei had left one of his Hiraishin kunai with Kakashi…

"I came as quickly as I could," the blonde man explains, as he looks the both of them over. His brows furrow, eyes searching, and turns to the girl with the cloak.

"Who's this…? Why are we in an Iwa base? And where's Obito?" Minato-sensei asks slowly, voice full of concern.

"This is, um…" Rin trails off, realizing she has no name to connect with the face.

"Shiroi," the cloak-wearing girl answers. "And, yes, it's my real name. My mother was very uncreative."

Kakashi gives a small snort at that addition, crossing his arms. Rin considers it somewhat ironic, considering his name means 'scarecrow of the fields'.

"She engaged against the enemy, and fought alongside us, soon after our squad had tried to rescue Rin. We have met her previously, in Kusa's Capitol city, one year prior," Kakashi tells sensei after a few moments, voice perfectly professional, as if giving a mission report.

"…Right," the blonde man says, somewhat dubious. "That doesn't answer my other questions. Actually, it brings more up." He looks around the cave, brow furrowed. "Is Obito knocked out somewhere, or…?"

A melancholic air settles upon the small group. Both Rin and Kakashi avoid his eyes, and the subject. Minato looks between his two students, realization dawning upon him.

He was their sensei. He knew his squad better than most people would.

"If I may make a suggestion?" Shiroi-san speaks up cautiously. She waits for the three Leaf shinobi to look at her, before going on. "You should leave this area. It seems to be a hotspot for Iwa-nin, and all of you seemed to have used a lot of chakra in combat."

Kakashi's head instantly snaps over to Minato-sensei. "The mission—"

"We'll get to that," the man says soothingly, placing a hand on both of his students' shoulders. "But Shiroi-san is correct. We're all tired, and the both of you are injured. We probably need to leave this area, and rest a bit, to get our strength back. Then we'll finish up our mission."

"I can keep my senses pealed for enemies," Shiroi-san offers. "If it's something that'll help against Iwagakure, then I'll do my best to assist you."

"Thank you, Shiroi-san," Minato-sensei answers, cocking his head slightly, scrutinizing the girl closely. "I assume you're a Grass native, correct…?" The cloak-wearing girl nods her head. "Have you been to Kannabi Bridge?"

Shiroi-san gives a bitter laugh. "Murasaki Village—my hometown—was not that far from Kannabi Bridge. I believe it's why Iwagakure had destroyed it…So, yes. I do know the way, although I'm not familiar with the area inside the Land of Fire's borders."

"That's fine. You still know more than we do, about the bridge," the blonde says. "Your assistance will be greatly appreciated, if you can help direct us there."

Shiroi-san's face is one of shock. "You…Want me to help you on this mission?"

"Sensei…!" Kakashi hisses, voice strained. "She isn't part of this mission! She's Grass—"

"Grass and the Leaf are allies," Minato-sensei states. "Shiroi-san knows of the bridge, the best way to get there, and is a sensor. She'll be a valuable ally for this mission, when our squad is fatigued, and…And one man down."

The last part is barely pushed past his throat, full of grief. But their sensei still has a front full of firmness and charisma, strong, for his students. It's comforting, in a way; sensei always seems to know what to do.

Shiroi-san gives a low noise in her throat, catching the three Leaf shinobis' attention. "I feel an enemy squad passing through the edges of my sensory field. We should pack up and move out soon."

The red-eyed girl doesn't spare them another glance, as she instantly goes over to the nearest corpse, crouching. With quick, practiced movements, she searches the body. She ends up with a small pile of supplies, after empting pockets and unclasping holsters, and quickly starts refilling her own holsters with the pilfered weapons.

Rin can't help but stand frozen, and stare. No one else makes a movement.

After a few awkwardly silent seconds, Shiroi-san looks over her shoulder, at the three Leaf shinobi. "What…?" When none of them had an answer, she went on. "Do…Do you people not search bodies for supplies…?"

Rin feels completely and utterly horrified at the other girl's actions and subsequent question. There's a lot of…unpleasant implications, there.

Did other villages **really** rob the corpses of their enemies for weapons…? Is Konoha just too soft and respectful, to do so? Is this some sort of common practice?

"Um…Not particularly. Unless it complies with certain mission parameters," Minato-sensei says weakly.

Shiroi-san says something suspiciously like " _Well, fuck me_ " under her breath. She turns to them, awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck, avoiding eye contact. "Then…How do you all expect to replenish your kunai and shuriken?"

There is an uncomfortable pause, where no one speaks up to make suggestions.

The red-eyed girl goes on. "They don't exactly grow on trees, and these ninja are dead. The dead has no use for weapons, so, well, it's the most logical thing to do..."

Rin recoils, seeing sensei give a minute wince besides her. She tries very, very hard, not to let her face scrunch up in disgust.

In a macabre way, Shiroi-san is right. Low on supplies, the best way to replenish those supplies would be to pilfer them from nearby sources... And there were many bodies to do so, in the cave and area.

Kakashi—who has been silent, and hasn't had any outward reaction—moves forwards. He crouches down to an Iwa shinobi's corpse, rips the kunai from its flesh, unhooks the holsters, and stands back up.

He does this all with a casual, unaffected air. As if he has done do many times before. Rin doesn't believe he's every done so. Maybe Kakashi is just much better at adapting to situations, than she is.

The cloak-wearing girl sends him a small nod, before taking out a scroll with a black band around it, and sealing the two cleared bodies within.

"It's good to seal the bodies," she explains, when given questioning looks. "To turn them over to the shinobi villages later, for bounties or burial."

"That's…A good idea, actually," Minato-sensei admits. He looks at all three teens. His entire body shifts subtly, into something more commanding. "We'll just have to do this, then. Gear up, and seal the bodies. We're leaving in ten."

"Hai, sensei," Rin and Kakashi chorus, standing at attention. Shiroi-san gives a firm nod, from her position next to a third corpse.

The four get to work. The Grass girl removes the valuables from the bodies so quickly, Rin finds it particularly disturbing. It's mesmerizing, in a way; bile fascination just can't let her look away. Meanwhile, she herself can't help but hesitate, carefully moving each enemies' body, touching it the least she is able.

Rin Nohara is most certainly familiar with death, and dead bodies. She's a medic-nin. She's had anatomy lessons in the hospital, working on many different types of cadavers.

But manhandling and robbing the corpse of a ninja—even an enemy one—just feels…wrong. Different. Her hands—hands of a healer and killer, hands that are always calm and steady—waver. They feel dirty, every time her warm skin touches the cool one of the corpse.

"Rin-san," the red-eyed girl eventually calls out. The tattooed-cheeked girl jolts her head up, from her position of awkwardly hovering next to one of her targets. "Can you please assist me in sealing the bodies?"

Shiroi-san has accumulated almost two dozen cleared bodies, working even faster than Minato-sensei. Rin skitters over to the older girl, gratefully taking the scroll that's offered to her, and begins to do as Shiroi-san asks.

Rin can't help but pick up the low murmur of Kakashi's voice, a bit like background noise in the ominous quiet of the cave. It seems like he's giving a report to their sensei over what had happened, to derail the mission so far.

Sealing up the bodies of the enemies she helped cut down helps to remind herself that she actually contributed some good things in this entire mess. And she thinks Shiroi-san knew this, and gave her the task for this very reason.

* * *

The allotted ten minutes pass. Shiroi-san and Minato-sensei end up sealing the last of the bodies, even the ones not touched previously. They both seem to have some sort of understanding of the action, that doesn't seem to extend to Rin or her teammate.

The squad's holsters are bulging with fresh weapons, when they prepare to leave. But the cloak-wearing girl hesitates, steps halting, before she turns around and dashes to the caved-in rock wall.

Rin watches as the older girl unwraps a roll of explosive notes, and plasters them all across the uneven surface of the fresh cave wall. A few seconds later, and she's rushing back towards them, while they linger outside of the cave's mouth for her. "Just in case," she murmurs in an undertone.

"Let's go," the blonde says, a frown on his face.

The four start forwards, bounding into the nearest trees. Sensei is at point, most likely since he has the most energy out of all of them, and is the leader of their group. Shiroi-san is right besides him, in case her expertise is needed for directions.

Kakashi takes the back position, essentially having swapped places with Minato-sensei in their usual formations. He's the most worn out of them all, but his heightened senses will help in watching their group's backs. Not to mention the Sharingan eye…It's an impressive tool, with its capabilities.

If Obito were still here, maybe he'd—

But, no. Obito is dead. He's never coming back. She has to remind herself that.

Rin takes the middle, because that has always been her place. She's a medic-nin, not a front line fighter. Not to mention, running on her wobbly legs makes her definitely the weakest of the group in terms of travel.

Maybe she's just the weakest member altogether…

No, no. She can't start having those doubts and feelings. It'll just drag her—and their squad—down. She's already done enough of that.

No more.

* * *

Their group has gotten quite a bit of distance between themselves, and the cave, after a twenty minutes straight of rushed travel through the treetops. Rin's legs are burning with fatigue, and Kakashi is starting to lag behind as well.

Kakashi is no doubt running on fumes, from having been part of Rin's rescue effort, had an eye gouged out, having a Sharingan eye implanted, and then using the chakra-draining eye for its powers. It's a miracle in itself that he's still conscious at this point, and hasn't passed out from chakra exhaustion.

But, he doesn't speak up, to ask to rest. Maybe the masked boy thinks he'll be dragging the squad down— **is** dragging the squad down.

Or maybe Rin herself is just projecting her feelings and doubts onto him. Kakashi is an enigma that she never thinks she'll figure out, even with all the years of knowing him; he could be having wildly different thoughts, right now.

But…Well, it would be nice to take a break. Just a small one, to catch her breath, maybe wrap some bandages around her legs…That would be nice.

Not even five minutes later, after this thought, Shiroi-san slows. The cloak-wearing girl pivots in place, stopping gracefully on a branch of a sycamore tree. She stares out intensely with her red-eyed gaze, off in the direction they've come from.

Sensei pauses, body tensing, muscles bunching and coiling. Prepared for a fight, despite the nonchalant stance. "Are we being pursued?"

The two younger teens stop on a nearby branch, panting, with shaking legs. They watch the silent young woman closely.

Shiroi-san closes her eyes, brow furrowing harshly. She brings a hand up to make the Seal of Confrontation, seemingly focusing on her sensor abilities.

She slowly uses her other hand to take out a small slip of paper from one of her pockets—a seal?— putting it between her two hands, making the Tiger hand sign. But instead of having it point upwards, the cloak-wearing girl levels it, making her fingers point out in front of her. Her hands start to lightly glow blue.

The next few moments are tense and dead silent. The three Leaf shinobi watch the Grass native, weapons out and at the ready, in case they needed to fight their way through another ambush of enemy forces.

Shiroi-san cocks her hand in an upward motion, and the chakra around her hands visibly spikes. "Bang."

There is an enormous explosion that suddenly erupts, off into the distance. The pillar of flames, smoke, and debris can be easily seen from their position, a grand thing that looks like a miniature volcano blowing up.

That was too perfectly timed, to be a coincidence.

If Shiroi-san has this type of power…Well, that's quite frankly terrifying. Rin is fairly sure that her eyes are bugging out, as she gapes at the older girl.

"I think I've delayed any pursuers," Shiroi-san says mildly, opening her eyes, and lowering her hands. She turns to face the Leaf-nin. "We should get going. The explosion could draw attention there, so we should put as much distance as possible between us, and there."

Rin looks over at sensei, confused and hoping for some type of guidance and clarification on what just happened; Kakashi does so as well. The man's jaw is going up and down, but no sound above an incomprehensible murmur is coming out.

"First, Shiroi-san," he finally starts, seemingly trying to gather his thoughts. "…Why, and how, did you do that?"

The cloak-wearing girl stares at the three of them, her red eyes feeling like they were looking straight into Rin's very core. After a few heartbeats, the girl tilts her head slightly to the side.

"I'll tell you on the road," she says simply. "Or else we'll be wasting more time."

"I disagree," Sensei rebukes, voice cold and firm, friendly blue eyes turning into chips of ice. It's chilly, something that demands obedience. A reminder that Minato Namikaze may be a nice man, but he's also the Yellow Flash of Konoha, someone who bulldozes through enemy forces like a one-man army.

"My students are tired and injured, and deserve a break. We've gotten enough distance, to be out of the range of immediate danger from enemy forces. And… You seemingly just blew up the entire cave that we've just absconded. The very same cave where one of my students was **buried** **alive**."

"I think I—and the rest of this squad—deserve an explanation," the man says, voice low and dangerous.

The atmosphere is like a freezer. Or maybe that's just her.

Was this…Was this Minato-sensei's killing intent? That's the only explanation for why the air feels tense enough to cut with a kunai.

Rin can't remember the last time—if ever—that Minato-sensei has spoken in such a terrifyingly cold way, when his students are right besides him. The man can even be mild-mannered in the face of enemies, so this turn in tone from him is…

" _Well"_ , Rin muses idly to herself, as a shiver goes down the back of her spine, " _I'm glad that sensei is on_ _ **our**_ _side_ ".

Shiroi-san, meanwhile, is frozen in place. Her red eyes are wide, full of fear. Her pale skin pales further, until she looks near translucent, like a ghost. Her entire body is trembling.

The cloak-wearing girl looks like she either wants to make a run for it (understandable, but ultimately futile, considering that Sensei is one of the fastest men in the Elemental Nations) or wants to commence a nervous breakdown of some sort (also very much understandable, since Minato-sensei is a terrifying man, when he shows just how much of a threat he really is).

Shiroi-san lets out a shaky, choked breath. Her knees wobble dangerously, her legs buckling under her. The red-eyed girl slowly sinks down onto the branch she had been standing on, looking like she's barely keeping herself from falling off it and plummeting painfully to the forest floor.

"A-Alright," the tall girl chokes out, voice a terrified squeak.

From Shiroi-san's vantage point, Minato Namikaze probably looks like the most daunting person is existence. Him looming over so tall over her, glaring down at her with sharp Killing Intent.

Minato-sensei just stares down at the girl for a few more heartbeats, assessing. Then, he crouches down on the branch he was previously standing on, motioning to Rin and Kakashi to sit down. The two give each other a look, before jumping to sit in branch of a tree adjacent to both sensei's and Shiroi's perches.

"Explain," the blonde states to the red-eyed girl, tone firm.

"O-Of course," the cloak-wearing girl replies immediately. She lets out a slow, shaky breath. "S-Shit, Namikaze-san, you're…You're fucking terrifying."

Sensei gives her a bland, benign smile. But there's a sharpness there that usually doesn't belong in his usual, **genuine** smiles.

"I get that," he says casually. Rin doesn't doubt it.

Sensei's teeth are bared slightly more than they need to be, canines glinting ominously. "Now… would you like to start from the beginning, or first give an explanation on why you blew up the cave?"

' _Or should we do this the hard way?_ ' goes unsaid.

* * *

Personally, Rin finds it impressive that Shiroi-san doesn't outright spill her guts in a blubbering mess, in an instant.

Instead, the red-eyed girl takes a deep breath, seemingly trying to settle her nerves, before she starts speaking in a surprisingly even voice.

"Ever since the destruction of my home, I've trained and became a bounty hunter," Shiroi-san starts, licking her dry lips. "The War—Iwa's blitz into Kusa—has been getting worse. I saw a large group of Iwa-nin mobilize, and thought, maybe… Maybe I can help fight against them. So, I followed them. They led me to your students. I helped them fight the enemy."

"You showed up… after the cave-in, correct?" Minato-sensei asks. He does so calmly, casually. But Rin feels like he is almost… **interrogating** the red-eyed girl. If, in a light, probing manner.

"Right," Shiroi-san nods quickly, nervously giving a grimace. "I was fighting through a trail of Iwa squads, so by the time I was able to help you Leaf-nin, the cave was collapsed. Rin-san and Kakashi-san were surrounded."

"I see," the blonde states, as if he's just figured out several different things from the short explanation, that have escaped his students' notice. "And, the explosions…?"

Shiroi-san flinched. She looks wary. Scared. As if **sure** that her explanation would be one that would end very, very badly.

"I planted the explosive tags…Just in case. To eliminate any enemies in the area," the cloak-bearing teen explained. "Kill them when they got in range, and bury all the bodies."

"Was this before or after you remembered that one of our squad member's bodies was stuck, buried under the collapsed cave?" was sensei's airy question. There was a low menace laced in his words, and his smile turned sharp and icy.

The Kusa native gave a shaky exhale. Her gaze slid off of the blonde man—as if her bravado finally left her, and she couldn't keep looking straight at her interrogator—and over to look vaguely at Rin and Kakashi.

Vaguely, because the girl's red eyes were unfocused, as if thinking of something haunting. Or simply remembering something.

"…I was doing you a favor, really," the Shiroi-san breathed out, voice barely above a murmur. "It killed Iwa-nin. And in the process, made sure that… bad people wouldn't be able to get his body."

"Bad people?" comes the dubious question, slipping past Rin's mouth, before she can help herself. "Why would they…Why would they want Obito's…?"

"He's an Uchiha, isn't he? He would be very valuable, for multiple parties. If he falls into the wrong hands…" was Shiroi-san's tired answer. She sighed, a hand going up and running over her hood, shifting it back slightly and letting more blinding white hair peak out.

" **How** ," was sensei's pointed statement, so forceful that lost its (probable) original intention of being a question.

Shiroi-san's posture stiffens, as she looked warily over to the blonde. "I figured he was an Uchiha, because the Sharingan eye Kakashi-san has is obviously not his own. The scar is fresh, and, well…He must have got it **somewhere**..."

An uncomfortable silence descends upon the ragtag group. Rin feels the tension and regret coming off of Kakashi in nearly palpable waves.

"Right," sensei sighs, passing a hand through his unruly blonde hair. "Right. Okay…That doesn't excuse your actions, Shiroi-san, despite your good intentions. We won't ever be able to recover his body, now that…Well…"

The white-haired girl gave a snort. The three Leaf-nins attention snapped to look at her, offended. An incredulous expression was on the pale teen's face.

"You wouldn't have recovered his body in the first place," she said bluntly, before going on bitterly. "This is **war**. There's too many enemy ninja in the area, not enough resources or manpower to recover every body of your comrades in the field. By the time the enemy leaves, or the war ends, the bodies would already be gone. Decomposed… If you're even able to go and find the bodies, in the first place."

"We would **never** abandon—" Kakashi starts, with a snarl.

"That's how things **work** ," Shiroi-san snaps in return, effectively silencing the silver-haired Jonin. "Sending forces to out-of-the-way places just to recover bodies, when there isn't a cease-fire to collect them, just results in more deaths. No other force is going to put their soldier's heads on the chopping block, just to clear out the dead—even if the dead are allies.

Do you **honestly** think Kusa will send out a squad to collect your teammate's body, when Iwa's been stomping their forces to the ground? Or that the Hokage would use people to do things other than fight and directly fuel the war effort, when Iwa's been getting closer to Konoha?"

"That…That can't…" came the masked teen's shocked murmur.

"Even when the war ends, it won't happen," the red-eyed girl said lowly, before letting out a sigh. "Each countries' borders are gonna be shut tight, and it's unlikely they'll allow other nations to troop in to poke around, on the off-chance they can recover the remains of any of their casualties. It could shake the tentative peace, give the openings for another breach or attack."

Rin watches as Minato-sensei's previously straight posture droops, wilting like a flower. "It's happened before, Kakashi. In the Second Shinobi War," the man tells her male teammate. "The exact same thing, as Shiroi-san has just explained."

The masked boy goes silent and still. From what Rin can see of his expression, it's almost as if Kakashi feels…betrayed.

"Honestly…? The best you'll get is if the enemy doesn't pick up your comrades' bodies, for experimentation," the white-haired girl adds, giving a dark frown, as she looked at the three Leaf ninja. "Just think of the consequences of Iwa—or any other faction, really— getting a hold of an Uchiha."

Rin felt herself tremble, staring at the older girl with wide-eyed horror. She clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to fight down the distinct need to hurl.

The girl with the purple clan marking can most definitely imagine it…She can just **see** Iwa ninja bent over Obito's half-crushed body…Cutting him open with scalpels…Taking out someone's eyes, tampering with them with Obito's DNA, until they gain the Sharingan…

It's…A nightmare. A horrifying image, but—Oh Kami. Oh **Kami** , it could really, **really** happen.

Rin would have never thought of that possibility…Because she had just assumed that later, they would be able to bring back Obito's body for a proper funeral.

She never thought of the consequences, of leaving someone's body behind for enemy forces to find. Of how many nations would literally **kill** to have the body of a foreign Clan shinobi…

Rin chances a glance over at Kakashi. Instead of his usual, stoic self, he also looks pale and shaken. Like he's going to be sick, as well, even though most of his expression is covered by his cloth mask he perpetually wears.

He's never showed so much emotion so blatantly in the past. Obito's…death must have really hit him.

Without being able to go back for his body…Kakashi won't ever get any closure. None of their team will. They'll have to live with the guilt.

And Obito's funeral will just be another general one, amongst the stream that pass through Konoha. No actual casket to bury, only flowers placed when they carve his name on the Memorial Stone for KIA shinobi.

"I believe you," Minato-sensei says, taking Rin's attention from worrying over Kakashi. The man is frowning as he stares down Shiroi-san—but the furrow of his brow is more worried and contemplative, than angry or distrustful. "As far as I can tell, you've been telling the truth. And your motives are…noble."

The red-eyed girl gives a relieved sigh, her shoulders sagging, the tenseness seemingly leaving her cloaked form. "I…Thank you. For believing me."

"No, I should be thanking **you** ," the blonde retorts, firm. "For going through all this trouble…For helping Rin and Kakashi…"

His blue eyes soften. "I'm not sure how I'll ever repay you, Shiroi-chan," sensei says earnestly. His gaze wanders over to Rin and Kakashi, sitting in a branch above him. "You were there for my students, when I was unable…"

Shiroi-san's pale complexion flushes, pink spreading across her features. Rin watches in slight amusement, as the cloak-wearing girl ducks her head, and the pink morphs into red with startling quickness.

"Oh. Er. Um," she mutters, voice strained. "It's, um…You don't, ah, have to…thank me?"

Apparently, the other girl has little grace when it comes to receiving someone's gratitude.

"I insist. There must be **some** way…" sensei hums, an amused gleam in his bright blue eyes.

"I, ah…Think that can wait later, Namikaze-san," Shiroi-san coughs awkwardly, avoiding eye contract with all three Lean-nins. "We've been having this discussion for quite a while, and many signatures are starting to swarm the cave like ants…"

"Hmmm. I suppose that's our cue to keep going, then," the blonde muses, smoothly standing up from his prior sitting position. With some effort, Rin scrambles up from her spot, following her leader, as does Kakashi. "Which way, Shiroi-chan…?"

The red-eyed girl slowly rises from her previous perch, hand on the trunk of her tree. She mutters a few things under her breath, tilts her head, and finally jerks a thumb over to direction Rin vaguely thinks is north-west. "From our current positions, I **think** that's the way to Kannabi. I'll probably be able to be more accurate, when we get closer to a more Grass-native terrain."

"Alright. We'll move out, and then take a break again later," Minato-sensei decides, voice taking up a familiar, comforting firmness of leadership. He bends his knees, and then bounds off with Shiroi-san at point, in the direction she gave. Swiftly, his students followed behind him, in formation.

"Ideally, we should get there, destroy the bridge, and then leave as quickly as possible. But with all the setbacks—" and wasn't **that** an understatement?—"I wouldn't be surprised if we can't get that far. If so, then we'll at least set camp nearby and stake it out, at nightfall. Come morning, we bring it down, and get out of dodge."

"Hai, sensei," Rin and Kakashi instantly confirmed.

"It's a solid plan," Shiroi-san gave a nod. "I'll help find a good spot for camp. The terrain around Kannabi Bridge is too open to hang nearby, even with the tall grasses near the paths. Too many of us to be able to hide thoroughly in them."

"Ah…We'll be counting on you, then, Shiroi-chan," Minato-sensei says.

"…I'll do my best," she replies. A small smile starts to unfurl on her lips, and Rin feels like the teen is very pleased. It's as if Shiroi-san has just been vindicated about something, as if she's found a purpose.

Rin feels a flicker of jealousy. This girl is strong, and wise, and noble. She hasn't even been part of this mission until half an hour ago, and yet she's done much more good than any of the younger ones of the squad. Or…Or her.

Rin feels ashamed, the feeling chasing away the wisp of ugly, green emotion. Shiroi-san's entire home was destroyed, and **everyone** she knew **died** , just because her home was near a useful tactical point. She's **had** to become strong to survive the hellish battlefield that Grass has turned into. That's nothing that Rin should be jealous about.

The Nohara girl lets out a long, low sigh. She's letting petty things blind her judgment, letting the stress of the situation get to her.

She's just…She's just tired of **everything** , at this point. She wants this nightmare to be **over** with.

The sooner they get to Kannabi, the sooner they can rest. The sooner they get to Kannabi, the sooner they can finish this Kami-forsaken mission. The sooner they get to Kannabi, the closer they are to going back home.

…The sooner they get the entire ordeal over with, the sooner Rin can have a nice, long cry.


	11. Jiraiya: Holidays

Sorry for the lateness, but I was very busy with the holidays. I'm giving you readers a chapter that's nearly 10k to make up for it, though.

This fic is more than 100 pages long in my Word document. It's also gotten 200 favs, 270 follows, nearly 100 reviews, 13k plus views, and is a part of 6 communities. Thank you all for your support.

This chapter is essentially over the wacky holiday hijinks in the first year of Shiroi traveling with Jiraiya (which starts in the Spring after the Kyuubi attack).

* * *

Reply to _Fellow_ : Shiroi comes in at a very confusing time, in a rather dodgy/fishy manner. First, she's not even sure if Jiraiya's mentioned her at all to Minato at all. Second, she can't really prove anything to Minato, even if he **does** know of her (Jiraiya didn't exactly leave anything he's known for, with her). Third, the others are wary of her being an enemy or spy, and it takes them a while to take what she says at face value.

TLDR— Shiroi suddenly saying "Oh hey I know Jiraiya" is going to be a bit suspicious.

Reply to _Guest_ on Chapter 7: Shiroi hasn't asked for something in this first meeting, and just gives Mei (and the Resistance) a large cache of supplies, before leaving Water Country altogether. Mei's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. They're going to have a correspondence, though— so any requests Shiroi may have for information and other things, will be through messages.

And don't worry! It's fine to ask questions. But this plot point won't come up until I later address it.

* * *

Jiraiya: Holidays

* * *

He's decided that they should stay in Grass for a few months for Shiroi's training, before he starts to take her around the Elemental Nations for rounds around his spy network.

It's not a hard decision. The girl needs to find a rhythm, and needs to learn certain skills in a safe, stable environment.

Besides, Grass is her homeland. She'll probably make her base in the future here, because of that connection. And if she already knows how to handle the place naturally enough, then he could use that as a base for her further studies.

She nettles him enough to convince them to visit Hōzuki Castle. It's an…enlightening experience. A bit of time passes after that.

One day, Jiraiya steps into their hotel room, and is met by the oddest sight.

The room holds colorful decorations— spring green, and yellow, and white. Jiraiya's first thought is to wonder if he's somehow stumbled into the wrong room, but it unlocked with his key, so that's out.

The next, he thinks, " _Oh shit. Did I forget her birthday_?"

It's a more viable guess. After all, the date is nearing.

But isn't it in July…? It's still April. Unless he misheard her, when she told him. But he memorized the date clearly—even wrote it down somewhere—and he's **pretty** sure he's not wrong.

So…What the hell is all this? Some type of early Golden Week party?

"What the hell is all this?" he asks aloud, bemused.

Shiroi takes that time to gracefully enter through the room's window. She frowns at him. "Damn, you're back early."

The man simply stares at her. His protégé has a large, stuffed white rabbit under one arm, a colorful woven basket in hand. It's full of…painted eggs?

"I can't even give you a nice surprise, since you have such a sporadic sense of timing. Stupid old man," the girl huffs, rolling her eyes. But a smile slowly works her way up her mouth, as she makes her way to the room's table, setting down the eggs and stuffed animal.

"Sit. Have a slice of cake, and some chocolate," she says, flippantly waving at said cake—a small square that has a carefully iced rabbit. The rabbit is split down the middle, one side white, the other light pink, with a bow in its hair. The chocolates look hand-made, shaped like rabbits and eggs, with colorful sprinkles and tiny colored chocolate piping to give them details.

"Your birthday's in July, right…?" Jiraiya still asks, as he slowly sits down, eying the sweets dubiously.

The girl gives a startled laugh. "July the second. But that's not why I'm doing all this, and I know your birthday is November the eleventh."

"Right…" he trails off, still looking around at all the outrageously colorful things in the room. "Still wondering what this is all about."

The girl slowly cuts the cake, serving a large slice for him, putting a few pieces of chocolate on the side, and passing him the disposable plate. She cuts herself a piece, and then plops down on the chair opposite him, large stuffed rabbit perched on her lap, as if its some sort of kid she's babysitting.

The girl unceremoniously shoves a bite of cake in her mouth, taking a few seconds to chew slowly, before nodding in approval. She sets the plate down, and shrugs. "It's _Easter_."

Jiraiya blinks. Squints his eyes at her. "It's…what?"

" _Ii-tsu-tah_ ," Shiroi repeats slowly, as if to a particularly slow child.

He shakes his head at her, huffing. "I don't know what the hell that is, brat."

She gives a flippant shrug. "A holiday. We used to celebrate it, back home." There's a faraway look in her eye, however, when she admits this.

Jiraiya stiffens, feeling awkward and hoping that he hasn't upset the girl. She usually has an indifferent, uncaring mask, but she's as soft as a marshmallow under that hard exterior. Talking about her home—or anything that accidentally references it—ends up getting him a subdued, somber girl. It makes him feel guilty and uncomfortable, whenever he ends up triggering those moods from her.

He decides to take a chance, though, and plunge right in. Because he's not sure what this holiday is even supposed to be about. Rabbits? The Rabbit Goddess?

If she's willing to talk about it, he's willing to ask and listen.

"What's with all the rabbits?" Jiraiya asks, voice casual, as he gestures with his hands to the general room with its decorations and food.

A small smile quirks on her lips. "It's part of the holiday. Easter represents the coming of spring, and of rebirth. Thus, the green, white, and lively patterns. The Easter Bunny—" and here, she fondly pats the stuffed rabbit that's nestled on her lap—"Is said to deliver chocolates and colorfully painted eggs to children, in woven baskets. Sometimes, he hands the treats directly; other times, he hides them, and children must go on an Easter Egg Hunt to retrieve them."

Huh. So it's like _Setsubun_ , eh?

Jiraiya leans back on his chair, chewing idly on his cake. It's a nice cake, actually. "Did you make all…this?" he wonders, gesturing with his plastic fork to the room at large.

"I had to gather all the supplies first, and plan. But, yes. I did," she nods, a smug smile and happy glimmer in her eyes.

"And the cake?"

"I baked it and iced it. Made the chocolates by hand as well. The eggs were tricky, but I managed to dye them," she said, ticking each thing off her fingers.

"It's…impressive," he ends up admitting, looking around at all the colorful, carefully handcrafted things. It really shows that Shiroi put a lot of love and care into recreating this small, obscure holiday of her home.

The red-eyed girl positively beams at him. The wide smile, bright eyes, and stuffed animal in her lap almost makes her seem like a child.

The girl had all that ripped away from her—became an adult much too quickly—so it's…nice to see this from her. To have her have something to celebrate, to have her act like a kid she was.

"I'm going to go out later, to hand children some of the eggs and chocolates," she says, voice betraying her joy and excitement at the prospect.

"And the rabbit?" he asks, amused. "You going to leave him here with me, to guard the fort?" he adds, teasingly.

Shiroi quirks an eyebrow, tilting her head slightly in confusion. "Uh…No? He's the Easter Bunny. The hell's the point, if he's not there to help me give out the chocolates?"

"Right, right," he nods sagely. "Of course. He's a **very** important part of the holiday."

The teen narrows her eyes suspiciously at him. "I feel like you're patronizing me. Tch. If that's how it is, I'll just give away your chocolates, too."

His eyes widened, and he spluttered, winding his arms protectively over his plate. "But, but—But they're **mine**!" he exclaims, in a near whine. "And you worked so hard on them, too! I still need to enjoy 'em!"

The girl stares at him, before she shakes her head, huffing out a laugh. "Alright, alright. I made them for your benefit, so I suppose I'll let you have some."

She stands, stuffed rabbit under her arm, grabbing the box of chocolates and hand basket full of dyed, hardboiled eggs. "See you later. And don't finish all the cake by yourself. You'll get fat."

She gives him a cheeky grin, before she proceeds to jump out the hotel window. Jiraiya can't help but give a booming laugh, shaking his head fondly.

* * *

Shiroi's sixteenth birthday had passed without much fanfare. As a gag gift, Jiraiya first gave her a black, lacy lingerie set—which she chucked at his face in anger and embarrassment.

But when he presented her with his **real** gift—a small cake and some jutsu scrolls—she pounced him in a tight hug, babbling excitedly (well, babbling excitedly in a very Shiroi way, at least). It made Jiraiya rather awkward and red-faced. He only gave her a few pats on the back, and tried to do the **manly** thing by saying it was nothing.

Of course, the girl merely gave a small, knowing chuckle. And then she got all quiet and sentimental on him.

Overall, it was a good affair, even if it was small, with only the two of them. Shiroi seemed to not mind this at all. The girl had even gotten some letters of well wishes from her little adopted family in Hōzuki Castle, along with some cute crayon drawings from the ninja brats in training.

 _Tanabata_ came and went. Apparently, his protégé wasn't much for celebrating, but he bought her a kimono and took her out to the festival anyways. He goaded her with the reasoning that it would help her in how to act in festivals and wearing restrictive clothing.

She grudgingly agreed, and ended up laughing at his expense at multiple times of the day. Mostly when many stall owners kept mistaking him for her father, and she just played along with that.

She looked like an actual woman in her kimono—a very rare sight indeed. And she wasn't trying to do a hundred things at once, or train every minute of the festival. So, he considered it a success.

* * *

October hit, and Jiraiya started to notice Shiroi starting to buy and hoard odd things, black and orange with fall themes. He thought nothing of it, ignoring the entire month as much as humanly possible. It was the one-year anniversary of Minato and Kushina's death, and his godson would turn one—and, honestly, it was all simply too painful to think about.

October thirty-first came around, and when Shiroi insisted that they have lunch at their hotel room, he stared at her like she was crazy. She spent most of the month coaxing him **out** of the hotel room, and dragging him away from drowning his sorrows in the local bars. It just seemed a complete change of faith to want him to eat **inside** the small room.

He warily stepped inside shabby hotel room number thirty three, and stared in bewilderment.

The room was covered in decorations, black and orange. There were fall leaves, warring against fake spider webs and spiders, along many surfaces. A plastic skull laid in the middle of the table as a centerpiece, patterns with bright colors of all types painted on the surface. There was a pumpkin that was carved with some type of jagged smiling face, a candle lit inside it, making it glow softly.

The smell of pumpkin and sweetness was overwhelming. There was a pumpkin pie, alongside iced cupcakes and a plethora of chocolate and candies.

It was one entirely confusing, hot mess.

Hands against his back pushed him inside the room proper, guiding him. "Sit down at the table," Shiroi commanded, before she began to cut up the pie and plate it, arranging the different sweets on the table.

"Uh…" Jiraiya murmured, looking blankly at everything around him. The entire room is such a mishmash—black for grief and darkness, mixed with the bright oranges of fall and harvest and the Kyuubi fox. Spiders and fake leaves. A skull painted like a happy festival mask.

He's not sure if this is something Shiroi genuinely celebrated, or just some weird-ass thing she cooked up in order to make him feel better. He wouldn't be surprised if it was either option.

"What's all this?" he asks, voice distant.

" _Halloween_ ," the girl shrugs. "Also known as _Hallows Eve_."

The man idly picks at his pie. Takes up a bit with his fork, and puts in his mouth. Gives a hum that's surprised and pleased with how it tastes.

Shiroi probably made it. The girl was surprisingly good at cooking, despite some of her bizarre recipes that seemed more fit for aliens to eat than actual people. After a while, he stopped questioning her combinations and tastes; most of the food was delicious, if not edible.

Like the 'pizza' she makes. That was one of her better inventions, he'll readily admit.

"What's it about?" he asks, feeling curious. "All I see is that the decorations are bipolar."

This gets a cackle—a literal **cackle** —from the teen.

"It has two distinctly different meanings," she admits, smirk in place. "One is for the fall harvest—represented with the leaves, pumpkins, and color orange. The second meaning is of death and monsters, the spooky things in the night, acknowledging that death isn't the last of a human's journey."

"Represented by all the black and fake spiders?" he hazards a guess. Like _Shubun No Hi_ and _Obon_ , but a more…cheery version.

"Yes, amongst other things. One tradition is to carve pumpkins to use them as lanterns, then use the guts of the pumpkin to eat," she says, gesturing to the glowing pumpkin. "They're called _jack-o-lanterns_."

"Right," he drawls, feeling like he's not sure if she's being serious, or if this is all some elaborate prank.

Then again, the last time something this pointedly bizarre happened was _Easter_ …

"Another tradition is for people to wear masks or costumes. Many are of fantastical things. Some are of monsters or evil creatures," Shiroi goes on, idly plopping a chocolate in her mouth. "And then when we're all dressed up, we go door-to-door, saying ' _trick-or-treat!_ ', bags in hand. Neighbors give the guests candy and other treats, before sending them on their way."

Jiraiya just can't imagine Shiroi wearing a costume or mask of any sort, willingly. Much less knocking on someone's door to ask for chocolate. But from the happy glimmer in her eye, and the fondness of her voice, she apparently did this when she was younger.

It only helps to remind him of how quickly she's had to grow up, because of the Third Shinobi War.

The Sannin is forced from his rather dark musings, when Shiroi leans over to plop a silly paper hat on his head.

The man picks up the folded paper hat, blinking down at the tall cone, before looking over at his companion questioningly.

The girl crosses her arms in front of her large chest. "Why did you take it off?" she demands, a ghost of a pout on her face.

"Why did you make me wear it?" he shoots back.

"It was part of your costume," she huffs, rolling her eyes, as if it was **obvious**. She plops a pair of round glasses on the bridge of her nose, and an origami hat on her own head. The hat is also simply made, but hers is smaller, with a lightning bolt painted smack dab in the middle.

"O…kay?" he murmurs, bewildered. But Shiroi keeps glaring at him, and he eventually gives in, tentatively placing the paper hat back on his head. He feels like a moron, but Shiroi is giving a pleased grin, so he'll have to ignore the fact that he's wearing a paper cone and suck it up.

"What are our costumes supposed to be?" the Sannin asks, deciding to play along, grinning despite himself.

"Yer a sensei-wizard, Jiraiya," the girl says, dead serious. After a few moments of awkward silence, she starts to snicker— and then begins laughing so uncontrollably and honestly that he can't help but **stare**. Because this is the honestly the first time since he's known the girl to see her having a laughing fit, and she's cackling like the entire thing is the funniest damn thing in the world.

After a few moments, the Sannin can't help but laugh along with her, bewildered and wondering what was so remarkably funny, but finding the entire situation ridiculous enough to laugh along with his protégé.

Shiroi's howling laughter tapers off into giggles, as she clutches her stomach and forces herself to breath deeply to calm down. Her face is flushed, and she wipes away her tears—whether of mirth or sadness, Jiraiya will never know.

"Sorry, sorry," she sighs, with a ridiculously happy smile. The white-haired man simply waves a hand, nonverbally saying that it was fine.

It was probably some inside joke from Murasaki Village.

"So, what's **your** costume supposed to be?" he asks, between stuffing his face with pumpkin pie.

" _Harry Potter_."

"A-whoozit-whazzit?" he asks, squinting at her.

 _"Heri Pouttaru_ ; your wizard student," she clarifies, smile twitching wider on her face. "You're supposed to teach me magic to defeat the bad guys, sensei."

"Right. Okay. Makes sense," the Sannin says, shaking his head in bemusement.

The red-eyed teen then dragged him out of the room to help her pass out the extra chocolates to children, still in their odd 'costumes'.

Safe to say, he forgot to think about the Kyuubi Attack for the rest of the day.

* * *

His birthday was pretty good, all things considering. Shiroi made him chicken, just how he liked it. And she baked him a cake.

The caked was literally made to look like an Icha Icha Paradise book.

"Making your cake into a toad would have been ten times more difficult," the red-eyed girl explained. "So, one of your porn novels had to do."

Safe to say, Jiraiya considered the cake too beautiful and realistic to cut. With manly tears in his eyes, he ruined the perfection of a cake—and then promptly stuffed his face with it, not three seconds later.

Shiroi face-palmed at his theatrics, but laughed. Jiraiya considered that a win.

And then she had went and bought him a hooker for the night.

Jiraiya nearly hugged her to death, loudly proclaiming that she was the most considerate student he's ever had.

* * *

Jiraiya honestly wasn't expecting any more celebrations, after his birthday.

So, when he stepped inside shabby hotel room number fourty three in the third week of November, the day after Labour Day… he didn't expect a feast to be laid out on the table, and fall-themed decorations on the walls.

"What's the occasion **this** time?" he asked his protégé, now not even surprised to see her celebrating some other minor holiday of hers. This was the third one. And you know what they say; third time's the charm.

"Thanksgiving," Shiroi answered, bustling about the table, getting things arranged. "A **proper** celebration of the harvest season, during every third Thursday in November. It represents bountiful harvests, and a time of thanks for all that you possess. This comes in a form of a feast shared with loved ones. Poultry, bread, cranberries, and pumpkin pies are traditional dishes."

"How are we supposed to **eat** all of this food?" he mused, looking at the table, overloaded with dishes of all sorts.

The girl gave a shrug. "Eh. Eat the same thing for the next few days, as leftovers?"

Her unconcerned reply made Jiraiya give a tentative chuckle. "Won't…the food go bad?"

"Storage scrolls exist for a reason, Jiraiya-sama," she rebuked, voice tinged in amusement as she looked up at him, from her position in cutting up the bird—chicken?—she'd cooked. "But if it makes you feel better, we can donate the food to the local orphanages."

The Sannin's stomach clenches, and gives a flop. He gulps, forcing down any sadness or bitterness when it comes to those places. "Ah… sounds like a good plan!" he says, forcing boisterousness in his voice.

Shiroi shoos him with her hands to grab a plate and serve himself. With complete and utter faith in the girl's cooking—as well as faith that she didn't purposefully poison anything—the man started to serve himself a little bit of everything. He was curious.

Soba noodles, mashed potatoes, hand-broiled gravy, slices of wild turkey, steamed vegetables, thick cuts of cooked ham, baked bread rolls, fluffy rice, meat stew, buttered corn, cranberry sauce... And then a pumpkin, pecan, and apple pie for dessert.

When he finishes eating, he just leans back in his chair, stomach bloated and feeling like he wouldn't be able to move for the next **week**.

"Ohhhh…That was delicious. Hot **damn** ," he murmurs, blinking blearily as he stares at the dishes upon dishes on the table. "Didn't even know you could cook so much food."

"I helped Mom cook," Shiroi responds idly. "Always helped her for holiday meals. My specialty was the ham, potatoes, and corn. They were the easiest to make, and I didn't get in her way."

Jiraiya hums, watching the girl, who stares up at the ceiling, her eyes unfocused. Reminiscing.

"Someone else taught me how to make pies and chocolates. Mom never knew how to make them. Could bake a cake just fine, but any other dessert was a mystery to her," the girl rambles, eyes half-lidded. Her red glaze slowly slides down, until it looks like she's trying to find the answers to the universe within the depths of the apple pie.

"I'm…I'm thankful for the time I had. With her," the teen goes on, in a hoarse voice. "I'm glad I got to know her. Thankful for her teaching me so much about cooking and sewing and just… life in general."

The girl takes a deep breath, body quivering. Jiraiya pretends to not notice the tears slowly dripping down her face. "I'm thankful I had a family. Thankful I-I had a-another chance." A pause, and a choked half-sob. "I'm th-thankful I-I'm alive."

The room is silent, except for the choking, shaky breathing coming from the broken girl. Jiraiya stares off into the distance, allowing the girl time to grieve, just a modicum of privacy.

A few minutes later, and Shiroi falls silent. Jiraiya eventually tears his gaze from the window, to look down at her.

She looks…Better. Her eyes are red and puffy, but her face is dry. She looks like someone who's just gotten something off their chest, after bottling it up for so long.

"Your turn," she says softly, glancing up at him through her bangs. "To say what you're thankful for."

The Sannin becomes stock-still, back tense. He's silent, mouth clamped down into a firm line.

"You don't have to pour out your heart, like I did," Shiroi added dryly. "Hell, you can just say you're thankful for the feast, and leave it at that."

The room is silent for a few more moments.

"…Actually, you **better** say you're thankful for the food. It took me a long time to make it all," she presses, shooting a small scowl at him.

Jiraiya finds himself relaxing. Shiroi is…back to how she usually acts. In its own way, that's comforting.

The man reaches out, and ruffles her long hair. She scowls harder, batting his larger hand away to smooth it back down again.

He grins at her. "Well, of course I am! Your food's the best, my little student! And it's also the most feminine thing you do, which is always a plus."

The teen rolls her eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you? Cooking **isn't** feminine. It's something everything must do, so it's a gender-neutral activity—"

"And I **suppose** I'm grateful for having you be my traveling companion, no matter how picky and weird you are," he goes on loudly, talking over her. He grinned cheekily at her unimpressed expression, wiggling his eyebrows. "I always wanted to have a **lady** by my side, you know."

"Yes. You've told me. Thirty seven times," she deadpanned, eyes half-lidded.

"Really? That's news to me!" he chirps, giving a wide, stupid smile, just to make her irritated. She gave a scoff; mission accomplished.

"Alright. You don't have to list things anymore," she says, giving a shake of her head, a fond smile twitching on her lips.

"But I have so much more to be thankful about! Like the **curves** and the **softness** of—" he gestures voraciously, before Shiroi chucks a bread roll at his head. He ducks, letting it sail past. "Hey! That's a waste of a perfectly good bread roll!"

The two devolved into lighthearted, familiar banter. Neither brought up Shiroi's emotional breakdown, having an unspoken understanding to let that type of stuff go.

The Sannin stands back, when Shiroi knocks on the door of the local orphanage of the minor village, in a minor country. Stands idly in the corner, when she helps the matrons dish out the _Thanksgiving_ dinner she cooked. Watches as she smiles softly at all the children who chatter, happy at the abundance of delicious food she's brought them.

And Jiraiya admits to himself, that he wasn't lying when he told her he was thankful to have her as a traveling companion.

* * *

December rolls through. Bizarrely, as the days pass, Shiroi starts to act… _off_ again.

She's always in a ridiculously good mood, humming and sewing and knitting. She turns rather…jolly. **Domestic** , even.

It weirds him out, to be honest.

Then she starts to burst into song in random intervals, and things sort of snowball from there.

" _Jingle bells, jingle bells,  
Jingle all the waaaaaay,  
Oh, what fun it is to ride,  
In a one-horse open sle-eeeeigh!"_

Jiraiya stared at Shiroi in fascination, as she sang with a smile on her face while she made onigiri. She even made hand gestures to go with the very, very odd song.

She was actually pretty decent at singing. But that wasn't the point.

If he didn't know his student any better, Jiraiya would have thought she was high off of something. But despite the apparent flip of personality, she still sounded like Shiroi. Had the same chakra. Same habits and ticks and tells.

Idly, the Sannin flared his chakra, just in case. Just in case this was all some sort of elaborate genjutsu or something that Shiroi had decided to practice on him. She could pull something like that off; she was rather creative, and had the chakra control.

Nothing wavered. All he ended up doing was catching his protégé's full attention.

"Ah, Jiraiya-sama. I suppose you're hungry?" the girl asked—nay, **chirped** —with a grin.

The bear of a man stumbled back, movements exaggerated. "Who are you, and what have you done with Shiroi-chan?" he mock-wailed. Except he wasn't really kidding about his question, because this was all just ridiculously bizarre and the Shiroi before him **could** , in fact, be an imposter. Or she could be compromised. Drugged? Under someone's compulsion?

His wild thoughts stopped, when the white-haired teen huffed, rolling her red eyes in a familiar way. "Tch. I'm just in a good mood."

"In enough of a good mood to randomly **break into song**?" he stresses dubiously, brow furrowed, and utterly unconvinced.

The girl raised an eyebrow at him sassily. "They're _Christmas Carols_. Of course it'd make sense for me to sing them when it's nearing _Christmas_."

" _Ku…Kuri…sumasu_?" he repeats carefully, wrinkling his nose slightly at the odd name. "Another obscure holiday?"

"Yup," she replied, popping the 'p'. "Christmas Eve is the twenty fourth. Christmas Day is the twenty fifth."

He sat down at the table, rubbing his face. "Alright, so…What's this… _Kurisumasu_ about?

The teen finished making the rice balls, plating them and setting it in front of him. She cleaned her hands, and then went to sit across from him.

"Well, the holiday was originally intended to be about the birth of _Jesus Christ_ ," she began, tapping her long fingers idly on the tabletop. "Who, through legends, was said to have been the son of God."

"Wait, wait, wait," the man interjected, one hand raised. "So, you mean…This is about the birth of a guy, who was the son of the Sage of Six Paths? Who you call _Jiisuus Kuraisuto_?"

"Uh…Yeah? I suppose. In a way," she shrugged in response. "Hell if I really know. It's all about vague accounts, legends, and a religion. That's not the only part about Christmas, though."

"Alright. Go on," Jiraiya says warily, slowly biting into one of the onigiri. Mmm. Chicken.

"Mostly, the holiday is about gift giving. It's said that three wise men gave gifts to _Jesus_ when he was born, to be respectful. So, people give gifts to one another. Usually to family and friends," the teen waved a lazy hand in the air. "People are supposed to be giving and benevolent. And take the holiday cheer seriously—forgive people, spend time with family, etcetera."

"Not a bad holiday, I guess," Jiraiya drawled, nodding. A smile twitched on his lips. "So, it's because of this 'holiday cheer' that you're singing those…songs?"

"They're tradition," the girl says firmly, with a huff, crossing her arms and looking away. A blush creeps up her neck.

"How many are there…? Because I swore you've been humming and singing at least a dozen of them," the man probed teasingly.

Shiroi froze. Then she tilted her head up, and stared up at the ceiling in contemplation. She started to mouth the names of different songs, using her fingers to count them.

Jiraiya simply stared at her, mouth agape, as it took her about two full minutes to think and count them all.

"There's around…thirty or so," the girl said offhandedly, brow furrowed and lips puckered. "I'm pretty sure I'm missing some, but…Those are the ones I know."

" _Kami-sama_ ," he breathed, before shaking his head to rid himself of his mild awe. "Does this mean you're going to be jabbering and singing my ears off until the twenty fifth…?" he goes on carefully, eyebrow raised.

His student mirrored his look, but with a smirk on her face and an impish gleam in her eyes. "Why, Jiraiya-sama—that sounds like a **marvelous** idea of how to get you into the holiday spirit! Thank you for giving me a way to let you become familiar to my people's customs. Perhaps I should start now…?"

The man groaned, leaning back his chair, throwing his head back and covering the top half of his face with his hand. He can **feel** Shiroi's smirk, even if he's not looking at her.

Cheeky brat then started to sing.

" _It's the moooost wonderful tiiiiime of the yeeeeear,  
There'll be muuuuch mistle-toeiiiing,  
And heeeearts will be glowiiiing,  
When looooved ones are neeeear,  
It's the moooost wonderful tiiiiime of the yeeeeeear_!"

Jiraiya began to laugh. This entire situation was absurd.

He's not sure why he's surprised by this fact, anymore. He was traveling with Shiroi-chan, after all. Absurdity should be the girl's last name.

* * *

Jiraiya learns an absurd amount about Kurisumasu, and its weird customs, in only a few hours. Apparently, it was the biggest time of the year in Shiroi's homeland, and has dozens of traditions and legends and songs and customs about it.

The main colors are red, green, and white. Silver and gold are optional, usually showing up in decorations. And something called 'tinsel'. Which were strands of small, colorful material strung up together, or something. Hard to follow Shiroi's vivid descriptions of the stuff, when it didn't **exist** in any country outside Grass.

Bells were very much appreciated as decorations, as well. Along with striped items. And large stockings. You stuffed said large stockings with candy and small presents, for children. But the main thing was an evergreen tree—you cut one down, decorate it, and then put all your presents under it.

Oh, and chimneys were important. Always needed a chimney. For the 'aesthetic'.

It's also how a _Santa Kurosu_ visited your home. Or something.

" _Up on the housetop reindeer paaaause,  
Out jumps Good Ol' Santa Claaaaus,  
Down through the chimney with lots of tooooys,  
All for the little good girls and boooys,_

 _Ho, ho ho! Who wouldn't go?_

 _Ho, ho ho! Who wouldn't go-oooo?  
Up on the housetop, click, click, click!  
Down through the chimney, with good Saint Nick!_"

"What's a _Santa Kurosu_? And a _Seintu Niku_?" Jiraiya asked, curious despite himself. Because the Sannin honestly couldn't imagine a man riding a reindeer, slipping into his home through the chimney, and then leaving presents instead of sabotaging the home or killing all inhabitants.

"They're the same person. _Santa Clause_ is known as _Saint Nicholas_ , or _Saint Nick_ ," the girl said idly, while she knitted and balanced a stack of books on her head at the same time. "He's a jolly man with a large stomach, who wears all red, has white hair, and a ridiculously fluffy white beard. Wears glasses, and acts like a grandfather figure."

"Why does he…" the Sannin started, before waving his hand around, not able to put his befuddlement into words.

"The story goes that the man rides a large sleigh, pulled by magical flying reindeer. He manages to go across the entire world, and gift all good little boys and girls presents. He has two lists—a Good and a Naughty list, and knows where each child falls on the lists. Only good children are gifted things; the naughty are given coal in their stockings. He is never caught, since he always knows when the inhabitants of any home are sleeping, and always manages to slip in the home to give gifts."

Jiraiya squinted at his protégé. Each subsequent sentence sounded more absurd than the last.

"Hold on a minute—you're saying this fat man in bright red somehow manages to get into **anyone's** home? **Just** to leave presents?"

"Yup."

"And he goes through the **chimney** , of all things?" he goes on, baffled. "If he's so large, how does he **fit**?"

A small grin started to form on Shiroi's face. "Through the power of the Christmas spirit, of course."

"Argh!" the man exclaimed, rubbing furiously at his hair. "That makes no sense!"

"Magic, Jiraiya-sama," she replied placidly, an amused look on her face. "It's magic…You knoooow? Never be-lieve it's not so—"

"Don't you **dare** break out into singing carols again," Jiraiya growled, jabbing a finger in her direction.

The teen merely gave a slow blink, an innocent look on her face. "I don't know what you mean, Jiraiya-sama."

"Don't play dumb with me," the man huffed, crossing his arms. "You were singing a carol about magic and the spirit of the holidays. I **know** you were."

"Jiraiya-sama, I was **not** , in fact, singing a carol," the girl replied, utterly serious. And honest. She was giving away nothing to show that she was lying. Then, her lips twitched. "I was simply singing a normal song."

The next few days were full of songs about bells and trees and reindeer and snowmen and Santa Kurosu.

They were also spent with Jiraiya questioning everything in those carols, because of just how absurd and **bizarre** they were.

" _Frostyyyyy the snowmaaaan,  
Was alive as he could beeee,  
And the children say,_

 _He could laugh and play,  
Just the same as you and meeee—_"

"How does the snowman even walk and **talk**?" Jiraiya asked grumpily.

"It's a **magic** snowman, Jiraiya-sama," the girl replied calmly. "When given various features by the children, and given a top hat imbued with magic, he became real."

"So, this hat was some sort of powerful chakra relic? Because that's the only thing that would make sense. That, or someone created him with Ice Release or Snow jutsu," he needled, arms crossed.

"Sure. If you want to give a justification to a make-believe snowman from a song, go right ahead," Shiroi said bemused. Jiraiya harrumphed and pouted.

A few hours later, came the song about the reindeer.

" _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeeeeer,  
Had a very shiny nose—like a light bulb!  
And if you ever saw iiiiit,  
You would even say it glows—like a flashlight!  
All of the other reindeeeeer,  
Used to laugh and call him naaaames,  
They never let poor Rudooooolph,  
Join in any reindeer gaaaames!_"

"How can reindeers pull a large sled—which is full of a bags of gifts, and a fat man? I mean, that's the description of what Santa's sleigh would be," Jiraiya rambled. "And then one of these reindeers **happens** to have some sort of nose that glows red like a flashlight? How does that even **work**? Are the reindeers some sort of Summons? Are they contracted under Santa?"

Shiroi sighed, setting down her knitting. Then, she began to list off responses. "It's a magic sled. Santa has magic gift bags to fit all the presents. They're nine reindeer. Yes, Rudolf is special—that's why he gets his own song. No, I don't know if they're Summons. They work for Santa, so, sure."

The most annoying song his student sang was something about the 'twelve days of Kurisumasu'. Half because some of the 'gifts' in the song were ridiculous. Half because of how damn **long** the entire song was. It just kept repeating, over and over, until it finally got to the twelfth present, counting downwards from there.

The girl even made **props** for when she sang the song. Using her fire chakra, she created shapes in the air of each subsequent gift.

It was an inventive use of fire chakra, and a chakra exercise full of ingenuity. But that didn't mean he had to like it.

Honestly, Jiraiya wished she would go back to being her quiet, serious self, if only to have her shut up. It was baffling to hear her voice so much, and for so long—not to mention having her **sing**.

She was…happy, though. So despite his grumbling, he put up with it.

* * *

December twenty forth finally came. Shiroi had the entire hotel room decked out in decorations, as she fluttered to and fro, hanging things and covering as much space as possible with green and white and red.

"I have to go cook our meal. Be back in a few hours," she said quickly, before promptly jumping out the window and leaving him sitting bemusedly in the room, alone.

Later, she came back casually carrying an evergreen tree on her shoulder, while Jiraiya was working through intelligence notes over one of his contacts. Thankfully, she used the door, instead of the window. He's pretty sure the damned tree wouldn't have fit through the small opening of the window.

Then again, there'd probably be complaints from the hotel staff, seeing her carry a tree inside.

Oh, well. He'll just bribe them later, if they raise a fuss.

Shiroi set the tree down in the corner of the room, causing the entire thing to shake, some needles spilling on the floor. She took out one of her larger sealing scrolls, flicking it open, and then unsealed certain compartments.

Trinkets now littered the floor. With a calm, practiced hand, the white-haired teen began to decorate the tree.

"Where's the presents?" Jiraiya asked, curious despite himself. "Or are you going to sing another carol, when you put them under the tree?"

"Well, I **suppose** , if you're so keen for one…" she said, her voice saturated with amusement. "Walkin' around the Christmas Tree—"

"I was joking! Joking!" the Sannin said quickly, waving his hands around. The girl laughed, and he pouted.

"I'm not putting the presents under there, in case you decide to peek into them."

"So…When I wake, Santa will have the tree full of presents for me?" he said teasingly.

"No. Because you're on the naughty list, Jiraiya-sama," the girl sniffed haughtily. "Santa wouldn't give you presents."

"Awwww, c'mon!" he whined. "I've been good! Don't be like that!"

" _He knows when you've been bad or good,_

 _So be good for Goodness' sake._

 _Oh!_

 _You better watch out,_

 _You better not cry—_ " Shiroi started to sing, with a smirk.

Jiraiya clapped his hands over his ears, howling comically. "Gaaaaah! Not another one! Please! I'll be good!"

"Anyways," the girl went on, rolling her eyes. "Santa isn't real. He's just a legend, and a person parents use to make their kids behave. I saw Kaa-san, once, putting gifts under the tree when she thought I was asleep. It's just tradition to sing about him and talk about him."

"Yeesh, you're such a killjoy," Jiraiya huffed out in amusement, before he went over to ruffle her hair. She gave an annoyed look. "Where's that Kurisumasu spirit, eh? I thought you believed enough to try and convert me, like a cultist, or something."

"I don't particularly believe in the things that the holiday is about. Doesn't mean I don't believe in the values," she sniffed, trying to pat her hair down again. "Or getting gifts."

"Getting gifts is always nice," he hummed in agreement.

Shiroi sang for most of the day as she prepared her weird traditional decorations. The two went to sleep, only for the teen to wake him up at the ass-crack of dawn on the twenty fifth.

The Sannin groaned loudly, rolling over to smash his face into his pillow. "Whyyyyyy," he whined. The sound was muffled by the pillow.

" _Meri Kurisumasu_." Something dropped on his head. He lifted it up, only to see a red-and-white hat slide down onto the pillow.

"What's this?" he asked blearily.

"Santa's hat."

He frowned. "Do I **have** to wear it?"

"If you wear it of your own free will, I won't force the fake beard or grandpa glasses on your face."

With a dramatic sigh, the man sat up, and plopped the (rather warm) hat on his head. "Fine, fine." After a few moments of grumbling and yawning, he asked, "Why did you wake me up so damned early?"

"To see the sunrise," the girl shrugged. She had dark circles under her eyes, but she hid her tiredness well.

"You're only doing this to distract me from the presents, I bet," he mused aloud. The girl gave a twitch, and he smirked. "I knew it. So, Santa-san didn't come after all, eh?"

Shiroi gave a haughty sniff. She then turned on her heel to grab one of the hung-up, oversized stockings, and tossed it underhand to him. "If you're up for it, we can start. If not, just go to sleep again, old man."

"Is it part of tradition to wake up early for presents? Because if it is, I vote we do it later, next year," he said idly, riffling through the stocking. There were chocolates and nuts, but also an insulated bottle of _sake_. He grinned widely. "Sweet! Santa-san really knows me well. I'm touched."

Jiraiya could **feel** Shiroi roll her eyes at him, as he opened the bottle. "I thought you were tired and wanted to go to sleep again. Didn't think you'd instantly start drinking."

"Waste not, want not," he shrugged, shooting his protégé a cheeky smile between sips of alcohol.

"Tch. Come here and get your present from under the tree, then, if you're so lively," she drawled in reply, jerking her head over to the tree.

"Sure, sure." He got up, walked over, and plopped down in front of the tree, next to his student's cross-legged position. He saw the wrapped box with a tag printed with his name, and pulled it towards him.

Curious, he ripped off the wrapping, looking inside the box. He took out the carefully folded material.

It was a knitted sweater, red, with a green tree on the front.

Well…At least he knew what the girl was making, when she was knitting all that time.

"Huh," he said, staring down at it. It felt remarkably soft. "So, this was what you were making."

It wasn't a fancy gift, by any means. But the fact that she knitted it by hand certainly made it more…meaningful.

He looked up, to see Shiroi's attentive face. She was biting at her lip nervously.

"So…" she trailed off.

"So?"

She gave a peeved look, face flushed. "Put it on," she huffed, crossing her arms and looking away from him defensively.

With a chuckle, he took off the Santa hat and pulled the sweater over his head. Wriggling a bit once it was on, he looked it over.

It fit him well, actually. The fact that the colors were so bright and eye-watering, clashing against one another spectacularly, made him smile.

"It's a damn good sweater, for your first attempt," he admitted, smile on his face widening as he struck dramatic poses. "Warm, comfortable, high maneuverability—hey, you think the ladies will approve?"

Shiroi gave a startled laugh, staring at him. "So you, um…You like it?" she asked, voice rather tentative.

"Better than any sweater I could ever buy from a shop. I mean, hell! It's even got secret pockets!" he said, patting it down. His voice softened, as he added, "I love it. Thanks."

The white-haired teen ducked her head, but the man caught her giving a small, pleased smile. "You're welcome."

After a few seconds of comfortable (and rather cheesy, in his opinion) silence, Jiraiya clapped his massive hands together. "Alright! So, since you've given me my gift, it's your turn!"

"Y-You got me a gift?" she blurted out, blinking wide, redeyes at him.

"'Course I did," he huffed, standing up and going over to his supplies. He began to riffle through his things, before unsealing a small, inconspicuous package from one of his scrolls.

He tossed the package to his student, underhanded. She caught it easily. "It's not hand-made, or as big, but…"

Shiroi quickly unwrapped the packaging, staring down at the set of red, flame-patterned hair clips he got her.

"Since you made such a big deal about the holiday, I decided to get you a gift, but couldn't really think of what to get you…" he mumbled an explanation, scratching at the back of his head, and avoiding looking at her. "You're always complaining about your hair getting in your face, and—"

"Thank you." Jiraiya looked from the tree, over to her. There was a slight smile on her face, as she took out the clips, and began to place them in her hair. On the left side of her hair parting, she made two Xs. On the right side, she placed a lone hairclip besides two that made a V shape.

Feeling relieved that she actually found use for his gift, the man took a swig from his sake bottle to hide his smile.

* * *

On the last day of the year, Jiraiya went out of the brothels. When it hit midnight, he was bombarded by confetti.

While he was spluttering in confusion from the assault of colorful, nonlethal objects, Shiroi merely snickered and left, before he could do anything in retaliation.

If he got past the fact that he was unnerved that she came across him during his questionable business…He was actually a bit impressed that she managed to prank him.

He went back to the hotel, and woke up properly on New Year's day, to watch the sunrise with his student.

No more Kurisumasu carols. On the twenty sixth, Shiroi had stopped singing completely.

That didn't mean she wasn't happy. She held a pleased air about her, after she cleaned up the decorations from her crazy, backwaters holiday of hers.

To be sure, she used his toads to run messenger duty to deliver gifts to her friends before New Years. He'd warned her that he was going to need to send messages on that day.

He didn't mention that he was going to send a good luck charm to his godson, or some premium tobacco to Hiruzen-sensei. But by the knowing look Shiroi had given him, she knew he was giving gifts of his own to loved ones.

"What are we doing today, Jiraiya-sama?" his protégé asked him, as he took them through the crowds of the market.

They'd staid in this town for the past two weeks—the entirety of Shiroi's Kurisumasu craze—but also because he wanted them to attend the New Years festivities. It was the place in the area with the best, and largest, festivals. And with a shrine not a long walk away, to boot.

"Going to the New Year's festival, of course!" he replied, shooting her a smile over his shoulder. She merely gave him an unimpressed look in return. "C'mon, don't give me that look. There's never a thing as too many festivals!"

"Festivals are exciting… **too** exciting," she sighed, hand on her hip.

"What—are you all out of holiday spirit?" he teased her. Her lips twitched, and his grin widened. "New Years is the best holiday of the year, Shiroi-chan! At least, for **normal** people."

The red-eyed teen didn't react to his jab. "Still too many damn people to deal with," she murmured, before sighing. "You'll drag me out anyways, so…I suppose I'll agree to go along. Just **please** don't make me wear another kimono."

"Too much money to buy you another one," he acquiesced easily, waving a lazy hand about. He smirked when she gave a relieved sigh. "The one you have is pretty enough."

She smacked a hand against her face. "Oh God…You're going to make me wear a kimono **again**?"

"It's tradiiiitiiion!" the Sannin sing-songed loudly over her groan.

"I thought visiting the temples and eating soba was tradition," she muttered.

"It is. So you have to be dressed **properly** to visit the temples," he said sagely, nodding.

The teen gave him a side-eyed glare. " **You're** going to just go there as you're dressed now. Don't give me that bull, Jiraiya-sama."

He gave a dramatic sigh. "What is with me having a cute little student that doesn't want to dress up in the pretty kimono I gave her…!" he exclaimed, a hand clutched at his chest.

"Oh, no—you are **not** guilting me into dressing in it," Shiroi growled. "We have to **climb stairs** to get to temples. Do you know how much of an utter **pain** that is, while wearing a decked-out kimono?"

"Nope!" he chirped, giving a guileless smile. The girl glared, and swatted his shoulder. He gave her a pout. "Come ooooon, Shiroi-chan!"

"Can't I just wear a simple yukata…? **Those** don't piss me off nearly as much as a kimono," she sighed, scratching at the back of her neck.

"You don't nearly look as cute in one," the man pointed out, still pouting at her.

"They're not nearly as cumbersome as a proper kimono, and more people wear yukata nowadays, anyways. Seems like a better option to me," the teen stated, crossing her arms.

Ah. She was going to be bullheaded about this.

"But how can you wear a yukata…If you don't even have one?" Jiraiya asked slyly, smirking at his student's blank look.

"…Then I suppose I'll just go as is," she shrugged nonchalantly. He gave her an affronted look. She held up a hand to keep him silent. "I'll let you drag me through the festivals and temple **without** complaints, if you let me go as I'm dressed now."

The white-haired man scrutinized the sixteen-year-old closely, before he finally nodded. He shot her a grin, full of teeth. "Deal. Just remember—you said **no** complaints!" he sing-songed, rubbing his hands together.

Shiroi narrowed her eyes at him warily. "…Right. I'm sure I'll wish for an early grave, but I'm sticking to this agreement."

* * *

"Jiraiya-sama, this is the **third** fish-catching game booth we've been to," Shiroi groaned in exasperation, as the bear of a man crouched in front of the man made pond.

"You still don't know how to catch one properly, Shiroi-chan. It's a skill you've **got** to know, when you're at a festival," he told her, giving her a wide grin.

The teen sighed, rolling her eyes, but ultimately crouched down next to him. He paid the booth owner, and shoved one of the little paper scoops into her hands.

The fun thing about Shiroi making promises is that she's usually very good at keeping them. This meant that, despite her sassy eye rolls and various sighs of displeasure, she went along with whatever activity he wanted to drag her off to.

They already went to eat soba and visit the temple to give their prayers and make fortunes. His student didn't have any complaints about the process—in fact, she was rather fascinated by the entire ordeal.

Their fortunes both held 'mild luck'. She also threw some ryo coins into the nearby fountain.

It was when they went to the livelier event of the festival that she started to become…grumpy. Despite the fact that the temple was packed with almost just as many people, once they stepped into the festival, she seemed to start losing patience with the crowded, loud atmosphere.

They went to different stands. He bought her a white rabbit mask, and a toad mask for himself, making jokes about how it fit her, all the way until she stuffed a fried squid into his mouth. Then, they went and bought some _osechi ryiori_ , and _dango_.

When she was disinterested in actually buying any wears from the festival that didn't pertain to food, he took her to the game booths. The first had been a fish-catching game—and so far, that's been the only game they've played.

Well, Shiroi, rather than him. He first time he tried, he caught a fish, and instantly gave it to a passing kid. Shiroi kept on trying, but hasn't managed to catch even **one** , so far.

"What will I even **do** when I've caught one…?" Shiroi mused, before glaring at the broken scoop she just tried with. "Carrying around a pet fish in our travels isn't exactly going to be easy, you know. Or useful."

"It's the **experience** that counts, my girl!" he exclaimed, clapping a hand against her back. She lurched forwards from the force of his playful blow, and the next fish she tried to catch broke through the paper scoop, leaving her with another broken one.

The white-haired girl shot him an acidic glare, while he merely gave a cheeky smile in return.

" **Fine** ," she groused, before turning back to the pond, glaring at the goldfish in determination. "I suppose I can gift the fish to a child that couldn't catch one. Won't make up for the time and money, but it'll be a good enough conclusion."

"That's the spirit!" he boomed, clapping her on the back once more. This time, she didn't move an inch—she was keeping herself balanced and glued to the ground with chakra. She shot him a look full of judgmental half-lidded eyes, in response.

Many broken paper scoops later, and his red-eyed student managed to scoop a fish into her bowl.

"Yeah!" she exclaimed, throwing down her winning scoop on the ground. She shoved the bowl into his face, the white goldfish staring at him, while she pointed viciously at the fish. "Suck it!"

"My, my, what an **enthusiastic** reaction," he laughed, gently pushing the bowl away from his face.

The white-haired girl gave a huff. "Well, I **finally** managed it, after twenty one tries," she said peevishly, an accomplished glimmer in her red eyes. "Now, I can finally stop playing this stupid game. I was considering rage-quitting, a few times."

She handed the bowl over to the booth owner, who put the goldfish in a small, plastic bag. The teen snatched it from the man's hands, before almost instantly handing it off to a little girl who was crouched nearby, who didn't have her own goldfish.

After a few more hours of walking around, and Shiroi getting subsequently more tired and grumpy, Jiraiya finally led them to their hotel room.

"Here. Almost forgot about your New Year's envelope," he said casually, taking it from an inner pocket, and shoving it into her hands.

His student blinked up quizzically at him. "You…didn't have to."

"I wanted to. It's tradition," he shrugged.

"Oh. Um…Thank you, then, Jiraiya-sama," the teen responded, quietly staring down at the red-and-gold envelope. She opened it, looking inside. "Oh, wow."

The man busied himself with something, so he wouldn't have to look at her. He knew he'd given her a large sum, and that she was surprised for him doing so. It made him a bit…embarrassed.

But, well…It's not like he had any other students. Didn't have many people in general, that he was close to.

He should be allowed to give her a good New Year's allowance.

He should be allowed this weakness.

"You can use that however you want," he grunted, scratching at the back of his neck. "But I know you'll probably spend it all on training supplies, or on other people, since that's just how you are. So, I'll give you the advice to use it to further your fuinjutsu studies. All that ink, paper, and brushes add up, you know."

"I…Right," she agreed absently. There was a shift of fabric, and then the girl was hovering next to him, before she carefully wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you. Happy New Year, Jiraiya-sama."

He set one of his large hands on her head, in lieu of hugging her back, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Happy New Year, Shiroi."


	12. Jiraiya: Summoning

Sorry for the late chapter. I blame school and ffnet's technical difficulties. On the bright side, this update is 7,500 words long.

We've got more traveling shenanigans with our favorite white-haired duo. This chapter, we see how exactly Shiroi got her Hellhound Summons.

Reply to _Guest_ : I'm glad last chapter gave you a case of The Feels. It means I've done something right.

[Ages: Shiroi is 17. Jiraiya is 39.]

* * *

Jiraiya: Summoning

* * *

When the student-mentor duo stepped across the Iwa border into neutral territory, Shiroi let out a shaky sigh of relief.

Jiraiya knew that Shiroi despised Iwagakure for destroying her home, and their other deeds of destruction through the Third Shinobi World War. It was only a natural response. Hell, if she **didn't** harbor any ill will towards Iwa, Jiraiya would think that something was horribly wrong with her psyche.

All told, it makes sense that she would become wound up as tight as a strung-up wire, when they visited the Land of Earth for a few weeks. They didn't particularly go far—Iwa and Konoha still held bad blood—but Jiraiya still had to check up on his contacts.

And, besides—he was known for traveling around the Elemental Nations and going wherever the hell he wanted, no matter his allegiance. It wouldn't be particularly right, if he didn't go poking about. Besides, who would be testing the Land of Earth's defenses, if he didn't do so for them?

Plus, it was good infiltration practice for Shiroi. The girl usually banked on nondescript clothing or simple _Henge_. He needed to get her into the habit of refining her techniques, and also physically changing her appearance, when needed.

The Sannin feels like she actually would've had a good time of it, if she hadn't been in enemy territory and seemed like a step away from snapping from the pressure and PTSD. She had a knack for making and perfecting many different personas. But she had to learn how to deal with these things **some** time.

If she was going to be the next great spymaster, she **had** to be able to enter any place or situation. There was just no going around this fact. It was infinitely safer, if he was with her during these type of risky excursions, to protect and lead her through it.

Jiraiya risked a glance at the girl, from the corner of his eye. She was under the persona of a 'Naoto Shirogane': a polite, respectful teen boy with dark hair and eyes, who was raised a scholar by his father (Jiraya's persona), always wore a cap, and favored the color blue. Despite how she tried to keep a stoic face, he could still see the wildness in her eyes, and the minute shaking of her body.

Just because he knew that he needed to prepare her for the world…Didn't stop him for feeling like shit, for making her undergo such stress, and reliving any past trauma.

"Once we hit Onomiya, we can get out of our disguises," he started, after a few minutes of tense silence.

"Ah."

The girl-disguised-as-a-boy said nothing else. The next minute was horribly uncomfortable for the Sannin.

"You…Did a good job," he said awkwardly, side eying her. "Things went much smoother than I expected."

"Hn."

Now, she was apparently devolving into Uchiha grunts. Not a good sign.

Chakra was coming off the girl in waves. Jiraiya frowned.

Shiroi rarely got angry. This was something he noticed, traveling with her for two years. She got irritated often, sure. But genuine, unbridled anger was a rare thing from Shiroi. She was calm and compassionate; rage and loathing just didn't seem to **fit** in her nature.

He needed to do some damage control. He didn't want to deal with an overtly moody, broken teenager. Dealing with Shiroi on a normal basis was tricky enough, as it was.

"Y'know…You did **so** well, I think you're ready for a new technique," he said casually, planting the bait.

From the peripherals, he saw the teen twitch. And then she turned to stare at him intently.

" **What** new technique…?" she asked slowly, tone that of interest. She took the bait.

"After resting at Onomiya, I'll tell you," he replied, giving her a smirk when she frowned in irritation.

"Tch. Fine," she huffed. "It'll probably be best to be in top shape for the grueling training you'll no doubt put me through. Not to mention… I'd rather the hair dye wash away with a shower, rather than sweat."

"But you look so good with dark hair…!" he crowed teasingly.

The teen stuck her tongue out at him. "It was nice having a **normal** hair color for a while—"

"Hey, I resent that!" he squawked, a hand flying up to his Henge'd hair.

"—but I suppose I've gotten used to my white hair. So, I'd like to have it back," she finished, taking a strand of dyed hair from her forehead, and peering up at it.

Again, Shiroi says the most oddest things…Really, he needed to find a solution for her odd dysphoria.

But, not now. Now, the girl was speaking to him, managing to relax and forget all about having been in the Land of Earth not even a few hours ago. That was enough.

* * *

Onomiya was a few hours away, by civilian pace—which is how they traveled, to fit the alibi of their personas. Due to Shiroi's impeccable sensor abilities, they managed to avoid any and all trouble until they arrived to the bustling town.

They bought dinner in their disguises, and then spent the night at a hotel. The only problem was that Shiroi made a ridiculously handsome boy, and got roped into a lot of discussions with love-struck girls along the way.

Considering Shiroi's persona of 'Naoto Shirogane' was polite and well educated, she was couldn't shoot down the girls quickly, ignore them, or act in any other rude manner. She just had to grin, and bear it. Literally.

Jiraiya immensely enjoyed watching his protégé be swarmed by fangirls, and have to awkwardly flirt away with them. It was absolutely **hilarious** , and prime entertainment. (Not to mention, some good material for, say, another novel…)

Shiroi has never been good at grasping the concept of romance. Her infiltration and seduction training had been like trying to pull teeth from the girl, until the Sannin had been satisfied with her performance and ability to **not** fuck things up. Trying to get Shiroi acclimated as a female kunoichi (or not-kunoichi, considering she had no official allegiance) had been a near disaster and a half. And she still often struggles with it.

Half the time, Shiroi is more comfortable acting as a boy. But even when presenting as a male, she still seems to be rather hopeless with romantic overtures.

He's not sure if he should be relieved or not, that his student was such an awkward duck, and couldn't ever survive as a seduction specialist.

It sort of hurts his pride, that despite his expertise, she isn't good at it. He has a reputation to uphold, after all.

Then again…Awkwardly floundering Shiroi was the most hilarious Shiroi.

When the disguised duo managed to finally get to the privacy of their hotel room, 'Naoto' instantly went over and collapsed with a groan on the nearest bed, covering her pink face.

"What's wrong, **Naoto-kun**?" the Sannin asked teasingly.

"I forgot how hard talking with girls is," the teen muttered, voice muffled through her pale hands. "Ugh. Why is flirting so damn **hard**?"

Jiraiya gave a chuckle, as he dropped his flawless Henge. "Eh. With enough practice, you'll get the hang of it. And then soon enough, you'll be a pro like me!" he grinned, jabbing a thumb at himself.

"Oh God," she snorted. "If **you're** a pro, then I'm not really sure what **I** am."

"What's **that** supposed to mean?!"

"Nothing, Jiraiya-sama," Shiroi responded instantly, a slight smirk on her face as she sat up. "I call dibs on the shower. If you peak, I'll shove shampoo in your eyes. Again."

"That was **one** time! And it was an **accident**!" he spluttered, face flushing in mortification.

Despite his leisurely activities and proclamations of being a Super Pervert, accidentally walking in on his naked student was probably one of the most embarrassing points in his life. He also had **standards** ; the fact that Shiroi was under-aged, and was like his daughter, made him discount her of anything illicit on a purely moralistic principle.

"Uh huh. Sure," she drawled. She took off her hat, unpinning her long hair, letting it fall down her back in a perfectly straight waterfall. Then she nabbed a change of clothes, and her toiletries.

"I have standards, you know!" he insisted, trying to fight down the flush of his cheeks.

She quirked an eyebrow at him, as she brushed past him to go take a shower. "I know. Still won't stop me from being properly paranoid."

The man harrumphed. "Being careful is a good trait to have!" he called out, when she exited the room.

The white-haired man let out a sigh, shaking his head fondly.

The girl was so unfailingly honest…It was nice. Especially in a world full of shinobi, where many things were built on lies and deceit.

* * *

The white-haired duo slipped out of their hotel room in the early hours of the morning. They ate onigiri for breakfast, while walking, as they left Onomiya.

"So…I suppose the technique you want to teach me requires that we're not around civilization?" Shiroi mused idly, as the two took to the trees.

"A good observation," he said, giving a grin.

The two were silent, until Shiroi finally cracked. "What exactly is the jutsu, then…?"

"You tell me," he said, shrugging, his grin turning cheeky.

She shot a glare at him. "Stop messing around," the teen groused.

"Oh, but I'm not, my dear student. I'm being **very** serious," he said playfully, grin widening and turning sharp. " _You tell me_."

Shiroi simply stared at him, eyes widening. She faltered in her step, and had to bounce off a tree's trunk, in order to gain purchase on another branch and keep pace with the Sannin.

"You…You mean it?" his protégé asked, after giving a cough to clear her throat. She sounded disbelieving. "You'll teach me any jutsu I choose…?"

"I think you deserve it," he told her warmly. "You really **did** do a good job, when we infiltrated the Land of Earth. So, I've decided to reward you."

"B-But… it's not even my birthday," the teen responded, bewildered. "Are you sure that I can really…"

"Well," he drawled, "if you don't **want** to, I suppose I can't **force** you to learn a cool new jutsu."

She aimed a swat at him, and he dodged, smirking impishly at her.

"C'mon, kid. You've got the control, maturity, and chakra reserves. You'll be fine," he told her. And, honestly, he believed it. In her.

The white-haired teen staid quiet. From the look on her face, she was intensely thinking the offer over.

"When I first asked you about Summoning, you told me I had to go through building up my chakra reserves," she started slowly, looking at him with consideration. "Do you think…That I have enough, for certain?"

Jiraiya gave noncommittal hum. _Was Shiroi ready for the Summoning Jutsu…?_

It's true, that he told her to build up her reserves. But now that she hit puberty, and was getting closer to adulthood, the peak chakra growth period was coming to an end. She wouldn't gain as much, when training.

Even before this little trip, she had decent reserves. Above average for a kunoichi. But ever since he suggested her to start chakra reserve training, she hit the ground running, and hasn't stopped since.

Shiroi is ridiculously motivated, when it comes to getting stronger. She trains pretty much all day, every day. Often, multiple things a day. Always pushing herself to the brink of exhaustion, only to get up at dawn the next day, to do it all over again. (And somehow, through it all, she still has time to do other things. Like cook, write letters, read, shop for food, get things ready for her backwards holidays, and help those in need.)

Shiroi was probably even more ready than **he** had been, when he first Reverse-Summoned himself to Mount Myōboku, all those years ago.

…Man, did thinking that make him feel ridiculously old. He was still in his prime, damn it!

The Toad Sage coughed lightly into his hand. "I, um…I'm pretty sure you're ready," he said, with a touch of awkwardness. "You're more prepared than I was, at this age. So, you'll do fine."

The girl beamed at him, and Jiraiya felt even surer of his decision.

"When can I start?" she asked instantly, face and voice full of barely contained excitement.

The white-haired man gave a chuckle. "Just let us find a good clearing to start practicing in, alright? Hold your horses."

* * *

After another half hour of fast-paced tree travel, the white-haired duo leapt down from the canopies into a decent-sized, out-of-the-way clearing. The closest human settlement was at least three hours travel with shinobi speed. They should probably be safe to practice here.

Shiroi's mouth split into an expectant grin, eyes twinkling, as she bounced on the balls of her feet. She was nearly vibrating in place.

Jiraiya grinned down at her. She reminded him of a child who was waiting to get a present, despite how tall and mature she was. (After all, she always thought and acted like someone past her 17 years. Being 177 cm tall also helped make her seem older.)

Her acting like this was, quite frankly, **adorable**.

"Sit down, brat. I don't want you to work yourself up and get tired, before we even start," he told her teasingly. His grin widened, when she instantly dropped down in the spot she was standing in, staring at him impatiently.

The Sannin gracefully unhooked his Toad Summoning Contract from his lower back, and then plopped down in front of his student. He set the scroll down on the ground next to him, vertically, keeping a hand perched on top of it.

The girl's brow wrinkled, as she eyed the scroll. "Jiraiya-sama…Shouldn't you simply teach me the Summoning Jutsu? That way, I can find my compatible Summon species."

"You sure you want to do that, brat?" Jiraiya asked with a frown, smoothly moving from his previously languid position into a more straight-backed one. "Summoning without a contract is dangerous. Trust me, I've had experience in this."

Shiroi crossed her arms, one fine eyebrow rising on her forehead as she stared him down with her vivid red eyes. "Then I will be fine and assured, when you are with me during this process, since you are so knowledgeable."

The man huffed, a mixture of amusement and exasperation. She was being bullheaded again.

Then again…If she ever chose a time to experiment and be Reverse-Summoned, doing so while he was with her was probably her best bet. He **did** , after all, know how the entire ordeal went. He was a legendary shinobi; he could probably get her out of trouble.

"You **sure** you don't want to sign the Toad Summoning Contract…?" he pressed, still a bit unsure, but hiding it with boisterousness. "It's not every day that I'm willing to let a brat sign it, you know!"

The teenager's expression softened, eyes showing understanding that she shouldn't have, but does anyways. "I know it's rare. But…" she trailed off, her mouth tilted up into a lopsided smile. "I feel like the next space on that contract is reserved for someone else."

She means Naruto. Of **course** she does. The very moment Jiraiya had offhandedly mentioned having a godson, the girl had managed to put the details together disturbingly quickly.

She's also right. The next contractor he had in mind was Naruto. It was only right. It was the boy's legacy, just like it had been Minato's, and Jiraiya's.

The Sannin awkwardly cleared his throat. "If you're certain about this…Then I suppose I should start teaching you the hand signs, eh?"

He slowly went through the sequence. Boar, Dog, Bird, Monkey, Ram. Shiroi intently watched his movements.

"Now, recite the signs back to me."

"Boar, Dog, Bird, Monkey, Ram," his student stated primly, with little hesitation.

"Alright, good. Now, practice the sequence, without chakra," he ordered, sitting and watching as her hands slowly went through the sequence the first time. He nodded. "Keep at it."

They spent the next fifteen minutes in this way; Shiroi going through the hand seal sequence, and Jiraiya watching her movements.

"One last time. The quickest you're able to make 'em," he told her. She complied, her hands going into a flurry with nary a problem. "I think you're ready," he stated, with a grin.

He stood, hooking the Toad Summoning Contract back in its rightful place on his lower back. His student climbed to her feet as well.

"So, this is how it'll go," he started, circling around her, until he was at her back. "You're going to bite your thumb, go through the hand seals, and pump as much chakra as you can into the jutsu. Reverse-Summoning takes a lot out of you—not to mention if you're going to drag someone along with you, in the first attempt.

I'm going to be by your back, and keep a hold on your coat, so that we can be transferred together. If we're lucky, we won't find ourselves in a volcano, or at the bottom of the ocean."

"What if we **only** end up twenty thousand leagues under the sea?" she asked over her shoulder, with an amused tilt of her mouth.

He gave her a playful glare. "I'd rather not end up **any** distance under the sea."

"Aren't your Summons water-natured, though?" she shot back teasingly, a glimmer in her red eyes.

He flicked the back of her head, causing her to give an annoying huff. "Stop being cheeky. You wanna do this, or not?"

"Of course," she answered quickly. "Just wondering if **you** were ready, old man."

"Yeah, yeah—just get on with it," he huffed, muttering under his breath about the fact that he was still a good enough age, damn it, he wasn't **old**.

Shiroi turned her attention back to her hands. Her body swelled, when she took a large breath.

Then, she brought her thumb up to her mouth, bit down, and went through the seals of the Summoning Jutsu.

When Shiroi crouched down to slam her right hand on the ground, Jiraiya kneeled with her, an iron grip on the back of her coat.

And then came a familiar **pull** of chakra and earth, a gust of chakra smoke, and a disorienting sense of spinning and falling.

Jiraiya kept his white-knuckled grip on the back of his student's coat, even when the two of them tumbled through time and space, and ended up sprawled on the ground of wherever the hell they got Reverse-Summoned to.

He heard Shiroi give a loud groan—no doubt from the harsh impact, disorienting feeling of the process, and unsettling chakra depletion. The Sannin's attention, however, was riveted on his surroundings.

They landed on hard-packed earth—stone slabs burned black and heated enough to burn on contact. He quickly withdrew the left hand he used to stabilize himself, and instantly began to circulate chakra through his body, in order to combat the heat.

The air was hot and thick. **Everything** felt immeasurably hot, like they landed in some type of oven. A quick survey showed that they landed in a vast cavern, where the cave walls were red from being superheated. There was an uncomfortable amount of fire that seeped through the cracks in the cave. It bathed the dark cavern in an ominous red glow.

Shiroi shifted next to him, sitting up and surveying their surroundings. She hooked a hand into one of her supply pouches, and pulled out a soldier pill, popping it into her mouth. She gave a relieved sigh from the chakra boost; no doubt, she'd use it to circulate her chakra to protect herself from the heat.

"Should I be concerned that I seemingly dragged the two of us into Hell?" the teen asked, voice surprisingly calm and casual, despite the situation they found themselves in.

The very next moment is when the spine-chilling growling started, and a pack of horned dogs started to appear from the shadows.

* * *

The white-haired duo were instantly on their feet, shifting into fighting stances, when the new threat emerged.

" **Well** then," Shiroi mused aloud, as she took in the sight of demon dogs ominously surrounding the two of them. "I suppose this is the welcome committee?"

Jiraiya felt like face palming. "Now's not the time for joking around," he told her in a low voice, through grit teeth. He slowly maneuvered, so that his back was firmly pressed against hers.

"Well, maybe my spirit animals like jokes," she retorted, sounding all too much amused for the situation they found themselves in. She cleared her throat, and raised her voice, to be able to speak to the pack of menacing, horned, black-furred dogs.

"Hello, Summons! I am Shiroi, and the man with me is my teacher, the great Toad Sage Jiraiya! I have used the Summoning Jutsu to find myself in your realm—the realm of a Summoning species most compatible to me!" she spoke grandly and confidently, but Jiraiya could feel the nervous jitters she emitted, from how close they were.

This caused the dogs to pause in their descent. They exchanged furtive looks, barking and growling amongst each other, as if conferring on what their next action should be.

One of the hounds stepped forwards, the others quickly parting to allow it forwards. It was the largest, burliest dog of the lot— a bulldog the sized of a horse. Its sleek black coat was riddled with ugly red scars, with an ear that was half gone, and a scar hovering over one of its glowing red eyes. It held multiple, whip-like tails, and had on a collar made of what looked to be made of teeth.

"We haven't had a Summoner in a long time," the bulldog spoke in a low timber, voice sounding like he'd eaten a bowl of gravel and kunai. "Or visitors allied with other Summons, either."

Jiraiya looked wearily over at his student. The girl merely lifted her chin to stare the menacing hound in the eye. "I'd like to form a new Summoning Contract with your species."

The other dogs of the pack began to murmur amongst each other, as their leader stared Shiroi down. When the large dog began to speak once more, the rest fell deathly silent.

"I could take ya to the leader of the Hellhounds, if you're really here to make a Contract," the scarred bulldog started, turning his narrow-eyed gaze to the Sannin. "But I don't see why the Toad Sage should meet 'im, too."

Wait… **This** dog isn't the leader of these Summons?!

If this Hellhound wasn't the leader…And didn't want Jiraiya to go along to meet the Boss Summons…What the hell is he supposed to do? He couldn't just **leave** Shiroi alone, down here!

"He came with me, to help be a diplomatic third party," the white-haired teen responded smoothly. "He has experience with the Toads, on creating a new Summoning Contract. I thought it prudent to Reverse-Summon him with me, in case any problems should arise within our rendezvous."

The horse-sized dog glared down at them with his unnervingly glowing red eyes for a few more moments, before snorting. "Save the fancy speak for meetin' the Boss," he groused, before turning to the smaller Hellhounds and (literally) bark out orders.

The smaller dogs retreated quickly, except for two identical-looking black Dobermans, with arrow-like horns and tails. They were about the size of a **normal** adult dog of their breed. The only difference is that one held light golden eyes, and the other light silver.

"The twins'll help guard ya," the large bulldog explained gruffly, before he turned and started off in a seemingly random direction. Shiroi and Jiraiya exchanged a glance, before the two of them began to follow the oversized Hellhound.

Silent as shadows, the 'twin' Dobermans flanked the white-haired duo, as they cautiously and stiffly followed the bulldog through the maze of passages.

" **Why** do you always get us into these sorts of situations?" Jiraiya complained to his student in an undertone.

"You told me **any** jutsu, and that I was ready for the Summoning Jutsu. Stop complaining," the teen retorted.

" **Hellhounds** , though?" he insisted in a harried whisper. "As in, dogs with **horns** and collars made of **bones and teeth**. As in, Summons from the **literal** depths of **Hell**."

Menacing demon dogs that were no doubt a dangerous Battle Summons. Dogs who probably **ate** people.

"I've noticed, Jiraiya-sama," Shiroi drawled. "I have eyes too, you know."

The Sannin let out a sound of pure frustration. "You're way too calm about this!"

"Of course. This is the species most compatible with me," she replied, voice slow, as if speaking to a child who couldn't grasp a simple concept.

He threw his hands up in the air. "I give up," he huffed.

They kept walking through the vast, hot cavern system. The ceilings were tall enough for the scarred bulldog to easily walk through. Shadows stood in dark contrast to all the fire that bloomed between the cracks of rocks.

Eventually, the group ended up entering a cavern that was even more spacious than the one they had first started in. The edges of the room created a moat, full of lava. The two humans used chakra to leap over, not willing to risk getting horribly burned by the substance.

A throne-like bed made of bones—around the size of a house— was set at the back of the cavern. Regally perched on top of it was a Hellhound that was smaller than Gamabunta, but still a rather impressive size, nonetheless.

The Boss of the Hellhounds was about three stories tall, with brown fur, black coloring around its jaw, and sharp-looking fangs. A large, black piercing was perched on its snout.

And the Hellhound had three heads.

Jiraiya became even more wary, but didn't stray from his student's side. The bulldog led them to in front of the Boss, before he perched himself off to the Boss's right side. The twin Dobermans silently bowed their heads towards the alpha, and retreated, leaving just the two humans in front of the multi-headed, massive beast.

"I had received word of the realm of the Hellhounds gaining visitors," one of the heads—the one in the middle— started to speak, voice a booming baritone. "One, being a young human she-dog who held hopes of gaining a Summoning Contract with the Hellhounds."

"That is correct," Shiroi said, bowing low to the multi-headed dog. "I am Shiroi. And with me, Jiraya the Toad Sage." Deciding that politeness was a better part of valor, the white-haired man bowed along, as well.

"It has been many a year, since the Hellhounds have last had a Summoner through a Summoning Contract," the head on the left said. "Not just **any** human is capable of gaining a rapport with our species," the head on the right added.

The Boss Summons lowered its many heads, all of them staring the teen straight in the eye. "Give me a sign that you are truly connected to our world, human," the head in the middle stated.

Shiroi fell silent. Jiraiya carefully placed a hand on her shoulder, and gave a comforting squeeze.

A sign? Jiraiya didn't know what this 'sign' could be, or what the Hellhound meant. 'Truly connected to our world' was also an odd choice of words. ' _Does Shiroi know what to say and do…?_ ' the Toad Sage wondered. Because **he** sure as hell didn't.

After a few moments of contemplation, the girl spoke. "You, Boss of the Hellhounds…Remind me of _Cerberus_."

The next few heartbeats was full of tense silence. Jiraiya held his breath, mind whirring. ' _What did Shiroi mean by that?_ '

The most curious thing happened next. The Boss of the Hellhounds opened his jaws, showing many rows of sharp fangs…And then started to **laugh**.

"That's it…!" the middle head of the Hellhound crowed, while the other two heads kept on laughing. "Your are correct!"

Jiraiya turned to gave a baffled look over at his student. The girl had a pleased look on her face, her cheeks flushed.

"How did you even **know** that?" the Sannin asked, awed. Knowing the name of the Boss Summons, when there was no other hint about it, was…rather impressive.

" _Seruberusu_ is part of an…obscure…legend," she replied.

"I am indeed _Cerberus_. I am the current Boss of the Hellhounds," the middle head spoke, lowering his body in a quick bow. "For passing this test, and having one of the three traits needed to be our Summoner, I will gladly create a Summoning Contract for you, human Shiroi."

"Traits?" Jiraiya asked, despite himself. This entire situation was making him off-kilter.

"There are three traits the history of our Summoners have shared," Seruberusu's right head started.

"One: an old soul. Two: being a human of the Samsara Clan. Three: having the Eyes of Samsara," the left head listed.

"You have the first trait, human Shiroi. Knowing my name is proof of your wisdom," the middle head spoke.

"Eyes of Samsara…?" Shiroi murmured under her breath, before realization seemed to dawn on her features. "I see."

Jiraiya frowned, looking between the Boss Summons, and his student. "Wait… **Samsara** Clan? You mean, the clan from Uzushio?"

All heads of the multi-headed dog nodded. "Yes," the middle head spoke, "our last proper Summoner through a Summoning Contract was a human of the Samsara Clan. However, it has been many a decade, since one of their humans has signed and Summoned the Hellhounds."

"It **could** be that the Hellhound Summoning Contract was lost or destroyed," the Sannin hypothesized, a hand on his chin. "For certain, it would have been lost two decades ago, permanently, from the destruction of Uzushiogakure. Samsara was one of their ninja Clans."

"Destroyed?! We did not know of this!" the right head barked out. "That is a tragedy," the left head said sadly.

The middle head nodded. "I'm afraid that we did not know of the destruction of the Samsara Clan. It has been quite a time, since we have last gained information from the outside world." The left head drooped, and gave a pitiful whine. "We usually gained information from the happenings of the human's realm from our Summoners. As such, our species has been blind to destruction of the Clan of humans that were our primary Summoners."

"My apologies," the Sannin said, quickly giving the Boss Summons a dip of his head. "But I'm afraid that's what happened."

The multi-headed dog bowed its heads for a few moments. Jiraiya noted that the other hounds that lurked in cavern also did so. A token of respect and mourning.

"Many thanks, Jiraiya the Toad Sage, for informing the Hellhounds of this development," the Boss Summon spoke, cocking his heads while staring at the Sannin. "It seems that our previous perception of the Toads has been too negative."

"Ah…Thank you?" the man hedged, surprised. The Hellhounds seemed to be aligned with Fire—which was weak to Water—so it made sense that they hadn't liked the Toads very much.

"Jiraiya-sama is one of my closest allies. I hope that the relationship between him and the Hellhounds is a good one," Shiroi spoke up tentatively.

The multi-headed dog grinned, showing rows of sharp fangs. "Quite. Once you sign onto the new Hellhound Summoning Contract, all allies you recommend and bring with you shall be able to visit our domain without repercussion. This shall include an addition of a Fire Cloak, so that they may handle the harsh temperatures of the Hellhound Caverns."

"Thank you, Seruberusu-sama," the teen sighed, bowing to the Boss Summons.

"What other abilities and perks will my student gain, when she signs onto your Contract?" Jiraiya asked. It was better to know all the pros and cons of the arrangement, before Shiroi signed the life-binding contract.

" _Katon_ and _doton_ techniques will be much more effective in the use of battle for human Shiroi, if she does not already have such natures," the left head stated.

"My main nature is Fire, and I have a minor Earth nature," she confirmed.

"Then, you will not be burned by flames. None of our species is affected by heat or fire. However, we have a weakness to water," the right head said, with a look of distaste at mentioning its weakness.

"Well…It's not like I was making any headway with _suiton_ techniques, anyways," the girl muttered under her breath.

"How many of your Hellhounds is Shiroi capable of Summoning?" Jiraiya asked the Boss Summons, after a few moments. Some contracts, it varied, so it was best to know the parameters when signing on.

For the Toads, Slugs, and Snakes, the Summoner could choose from any available animal. Other minor contracts could only summon certain members, or just one. Sarutobi-sensei's contract with the Monkey King Enma, for example, could only summon Enma; Sarutobi could not Summon any other member of the Monkey kingdom.

"That is a specification that must be created by the Summoner," Seruberusu's middle head intoned. "For those with the Eyes of Samsara, only I am available to Summon, and I act as a Battle Summons."

"The human Samsara Clan would often than not choose to have the Hellhounds as Battle Summons," said the right head. "Simply Summoning us into battle, and the hounds would reap the rewards."

"I see," Shiroi hummed, looking contemplative. "What would I need to do, then…If I wanted Hellhounds that could do things aside from being Battle Summons?"

The Boss Summon's three heads exchanged a look. The scarred bulldog sitting besides him gave a derisive snort.

"Ooh, ooh! She could train us!" crowed a high-pitched voice, rather suddenly. The white-haired duo jolted, and began to look around themselves for the source of the noise.

A Rottweiler pup hopped over to the throne of bones. The pup was half black and half brown, with tiny horns, a small whip-like tail, a thin collar of bone-like material around its neck, and glowing red eyes.

Jiraiya couldn't help but blink. And then blink again.

That…was a rather tiny, **adorable** Hellhound.

The Boss Summons gave a gusty sigh. "Son, now is not the time—"

"But, Father! It would be **perfect**! If this human trained us, than I could finally grow, and gain my extra heads!" the pup yipped, bouncing around on his paws.

Jiraiya chanced a look over at his student. Shiroi looked about two seconds away from saying 'awwwww' and turning into a puddle of goo, at the sight of the puppy.

Right, no help there.

"What do you mean by 'finally grow'?" the Sannin asked dubiously.

"The Hellhounds species grows in battle, with their Summoners," Seruberusu's left head explained. "As we have not had a Summoner for a number of years, many of our younger members have not been able to gain experience or power from battle. Every being that is slain by the jaws of a pup allows them to grow and gain strength," said the right.

"The taste of blood and flesh of our enemies is important," the Rottweiler puppy said, as if reciting an old saying, trying for a tone of seriousness. It wasn't very effective.

"So…I would have to train the younger members, and have them go to battle, if I want them to get stronger or gain a different specialization?" Shiroi elaborated, one eyebrow raised.

"Correct," the Boss Summons nodded. "If you want access to the whole of the Hellhound species, and assign them different roles, you must train the pups and young ones. For the Battle Summons, you must work with them and allow them to slay or draw blood from your enemies in battle. Do you agree to those terms, human Shiroi?"

The girl bit her lip, before nodding resolutely. "Yes. I agree to those terms, _Cerberus-sama_."

The entire cavern broke into a cacophony of barking and yipping, with some interspersed human-speech exclamations. The Boss Summon's son was cheering wildly, running around in a circle— before promptly getting dizzy and tripping over his own paws, falling into a rather cute, furry heap on the floor.

"Then, with my blessing, I deem it so!" the multi-headed dog boomed. " _Ares_ , please escort the humans to the Elders, so that they may create a new Hellhound Summoning Contract."

The scarred bulldog from before padded towards the white-haired duo, before jerking his head over to the side, gesturing for the humans to follow him.

* * *

Jiraiya followed the bulldog bemusedly, through the throngs of hounds. He shot a look over to his protégé; she was beaming rather brightly. No doubt, giddy from the prospect of being able to summon the Hellhounds being so close in her reach.

"That was **much** more intense than my own adventures in Mount Myōboku, I think," the Sannin mused. "Gaining a Contract with the Toads took only five minutes of talking, not an epic-length conversation."

Shiroi gave a swat at his shoulder, still grinning widely. "Hey, I enjoyed it! It was fascinating."

"Of **course** you'd say," the man mused, giving a chuckle.

"Are you calling me a **nerd** , sensei? I'm hurt. Truly."

"No, just noting how well they seem to fit you," he retorted. "They're even obsessed with training, like you. A match made in Heaven—or, well, Hell."

"Hn. Actually… _Ares_ , is this **really** Hell?" Shiroi asked the scarred bulldog.

"The Elders sometimes play cards with _Shinigami-sama_ , when they're bored," _Eirisu_ grunted in reply.

The two humans shared a startled look. " **Seriously**?" Jiraiya spluttered, feeling just about ready to have a heart attack.

The bulldog merely shrugged his massive shoulders, shooting them a smile full of too many sharp teeth. The student-mentor duo shared another wide-eyed look.

"Don't worry 'bout it. We're here, anyways," Eirisu chuckled, his laugh sounding like two rocks scraping against one another.

As Jiraiya somewhat expected, they stepped into another large cavern. This one held many pillars. Towards the back, carved out from the cavern walls, were half a dozen large chairs of stone.

Sitting in the stone chairs were three **humanoid** jackals. They were much larger than any human, however. More like an Akimichi using their Expansion Jutsu, managing to be about as tall as an apartment complex.

All three jackals had black fur that was turning grey or white. The one sitting on the left had a coat that was mostly blonde and white, but still held some parts of glossy midnight black on its upper arms. The one on the right had long, grey fur (hair?) around its head, and was the smallest and slimmest of the trio.

"Elder _Zeus_ , Elder _Hades_ , Elder _Persephone_ ," Eirisu intoned, bowing his head to each seated jackal in turn. "I've brought the human she-dog that wanted to make a contract, and the Toad Sage."

"Thank you, _Ares_. You may return to your post," said the middle jackal—the one with the most black fur, except for large white patches that made him seem even more human in looks. He spoke in a soft, but authoritive, tenor. Despite his size, _Heidisu's_ voice didn't sound any louder than a person speaking at normal volume.

Eirisu gave a gravelly bark, bowing his body, and then made his way back out of the cavern. Jiraiya made sure to keep the bulldog in his peripherals, until the Eirisu finally left, and turned his full attention to the elders.

"Welcome, human Shiroi and Toad Sage Jiraiya," spoke the jackal on the right. Jiraiya blinked, noting the airy, motherly voice as female. One of the few female Hellhounds he's seen, so far.

"Thank you," the white-haired duo intoned, bowing in synch to the three colossal beasts.

"If you already know the conditions of a Contract with our species, we can have it set up quite quickly," spoke the white-blonde jackal in a deep, jovial tone, with a wide grin on his snout.

Shiroi glanced between Elder _Zuus_ , and Jiraiya, multiple times. "Oh my **God**. You two sound and act alike…!" came her strangled, horrified response.

Jiraiya couldn't help the wild grin from spreading on his face. "Well, makes sense! He's the best looking—except for Elder _Peruusefonii_ , of course."

Shiroi put a hand over her eyes and groaned, while Jiraiya let out a boisterous laugh. Zuus laughed along with him.

Why had he ever been worried about this, before? These Hellhounds were **great**! Shiroi couldn't find any better Summons, really!

Heidisu reached out a clawed hand, and casually smacked Zuus on the back of his white-furred head. The female jackal merely gave a very pained, wan smile, as if this happened often.

" _Hermes_ , please bring in the blank scroll," Peruusefonii called out. A small black border collie with ridiculously fluffy fur, curled horns, and wearing a doggy-sized white robe, emerged from the corner of the room. It held a strap in its jaws, attached to a scroll almost as long as its body.

"F-fluffy…" Shiroi said, in a strangled undertone, with a twitch—as if she wanted to take the small dog in her arms **right** that second and gush over it.

The female jackal slowly bent down, and carefully grasped at the scroll _Herumiisu_ proudly held out for her. "Thank you, young one," she said smoothly, opening the scroll, and promptly scratching something on it with one of her claws.

"The Elders are the only members of the Hellhounds that can write in the human's language. Opposable thumbs and our humanoid features from our long contact with Summoners make us the only ones able to create any Summoning scrolls, or other messages, for you humans to read," Zuus explained casually, waving the fingers of his clawed hand down at the student-teacher duo, an amused smirk on his snout.

Heidisu took a look over the female jackal's shoulder, and nodded his assent. "I believe it is ready."

"If you are sure, my husband…" The she-dog slowly bent down, gently placing the scroll on the ground some feet in front of Shiroi. "All you need now is to sign onto the Summoning Contract, and you shall be the new Summoner of the Hellhounds, human Shiroi."

With a firm nod, the teen stepped forwards, and bent the knee. Jiraiya trailed after her, hovering over her shoulder. "You need to sign it in blood."

Biting her thumb, the red-eyed girl carefully signed her name in her blood. "Now, bite all your fingers, and press those fingerprints at the bottom," he instructed.

With a slight grimace of distaste, Shiroi bit her finger pads until they all bled, then left her mark at the bottom section of the scroll, under her name.

"We now dub thee: Summoner Shiroi of the Hellhounds!" spoke Heidisu, before clapping his hands together. The two other Elders clapped along.

Shiroi gave a low bow to them. "Thank you, for this honor. I will do my very best."

Jiraiya rolled up new Hellhound Summoning Contract, and handed it to his student. "I'll Summon us back. Hold on."

The student-mentor duo gave one last bow to the beasts, before they were gone in a puff of chakra smoke, pulled through time and space once more.

* * *

The two landed in a graceless heap of tangled limbs. With tired groans, the mentor and student took a few disoriented moments to disentangle from one another.

Jiraiya rolled on his back, looking up at the sky. The sun had moved, but not as much as he'd thought.

The only problem was that he overshot himself, when he Summoned them back. They weren't in the clearing from before.

"Where are we now?" Shiroi blinked in confusion, sitting up and looking around the area of sparse greenery.

"Er…I think we're back in the Land of Earth," the Sannin admitted with a wince, scratching the back of his head bashfully and giving an awkward laugh. "Ehehe…Weird, huh?"

Shiroi stared down at him with a blank, disbelieving look. And then she gave a loud groan, flopping onto her back, laying besides him. "Why am I not even surprised…?"

"Hey! I didn't mean to!" Jiraiya retorted, in a whine.

The student and mentor simply laid there for a few moments, staring up at the blue sky. Shiroi then gave a sudden snort, before breaking out into a peal of giggles, and soon enough, the two of them were laughing helplessly.

He's not exactly sure what tomorrow will bring, but he sure as hell hope it doesn't involve Suna, or else it would honestly be too soon.


	13. Kimimaro: Moments

I went Saturday evening to watch the newest Star Wars film. It was pretty damn good. Hell yes for a badass heroine and minority hero. Any of you readers seen it? Thoughts?

Kimimaro got a great reception in his debut chapter, so I've decided to have a 9k chapter that shows what's been happening since Shiroi picked him up.

[Ages: Shiroi is 23, Kimimaro is 10.]

Reply to _Guest_ : There aren't enough SI fics, where the main character is from a place other than Konoha, I agree. Jiraiya is also a great character that is a total riot to write. Thanks for liking the story!

Reply to _Gal_ : I plan on continuing this story for a long, long time. Until the bitter end/chapter 699 of the manga. I'm in for the long haul.

* * *

Kimimaro: Moments

* * *

"I'm sorry for leaving you alone so often."

Kimimaro jolts out of his meditative pose, the scroll perched on his head sliding and falling with a quiet thump on the futon, his connection with his chakra being disrupted.

Shiroi-sama is striding towards him, each movement slow and open, nonthreatening, her footsteps thumping on the floor. She makes noise so he is not unnerved or caught off guard by her appearance—because she is skilled enough to move as silent as a ghost—and her movements are careful.

It's better than warily approaching him, as if he is a monster—as if he's going to attack at any moment—like those of his clan. His **old** clan. Because the Kaguya Clan was gone, almost completely wiped out.

 **Almost**. He still survived, after all. But it was mostly luck that saved him.

Luck, and Shiroi-sama's guidance.

It's barely been a week and a half, since the massacre. And already, Kimimaro is starting to forget all about the Kaguya Clan. Already, the horrors of his family being wiped out are fading, being pushed to the back of his mind and compartmentalized in a small box.

He should feel more guilty, he knows. Having your family die is a very sad event. It is a tragedy. An injustice.

However, Shiroi-sama finding him has been the best thing that has happened in his life. Every day is fresh and open. New experiences to have, new sights to see, new things to learn, new foods to taste.

Shiroi-sama helps him forget about the things he has been through, helps him forget that he only knows the art of battle, helps him forget that he is alone.

No, he is not alone. He has Shiroi-sama. Even when she leaves him to his own devices while she goes out to do jobs or buy supplies, he is not lonely. She gives him things to practice, books and scrolls to read, tasks to do.

And she never strays far. She always knows where he is. She is a sensor, and she's already memorized his chakra signature. She never allows herself to go too far, so that she can always keep him in her sensory range, so she can always watch over him. She's assured him of this fact countless times, in order to calm him from any panic attacks at the thought of her leaving him.

"It's fine, Shiroi-sama. I understand," he tells her. He fights down a blush, having remembered that just this morning, he had asked (near begged) her to stay with him.

The woman gracefully drops down, sitting on the futon next to him, frowning. "It's really not," she says quietly. Her red eyes look deeply guilty. "You deserve my undivided attention, Kimimaro-kun."

She uses a hand to tuck a lock of stray hair behind his ear, and the boy can't help but give a pleased flush. It's been a long time since he's been fussed over. He's been locked up since he was three, and his cousins had stopped coddling him, ever since he accidentally severed a man's arm in a spar. He'd been six at the time.

"Once we get out of Water Country…It will be safer, and I'll do my best to be with you." Shiroi-sama states this, as if it is a promise. And considering what Kimimaro has seen of her thus far, he knows that she will do her best to stick by her words.

It makes him feel…Good. That she worries. That she will not leave him.

He can't wait for the day they leave his homeland. Because once they do, Shiroi-sama will always be there for him.

* * *

When they go on the move to the next place, Kimimaro notices a pattern.

Shiroi-sama takes them in a route where they pass very little civilization. The times they do, in fact, end up in a town, it is usually small.

Shiroi-sama is also a ninja, but she does not run through the marshlands quickly. They go at a civilian pace.

"We're blending in, Kimimaro-kun," she explains, on one of those days. "Ninja won't consider people willingly going out and scavenging from the land, or not using the roads. Using chakra-enhanced speed also blatantly paints a target on us being trained, and a flare for other sensor-nin."

"I see," he says. And he does. Having the persona of a civilian opens them to more attacks from bandits and thugs, but those can easily be dealt with. It's the ninja that will cause more trouble; ninja are much more dangerous.

The fact that they're taking a route through smaller settlements also cuts down the chance of ninja seeing them pass through.

The boy can't help but look over and snatch glances at his savior. She's doing all this, as if she's used to traveling through many lands. As if she's done this all before.

It's impressive, that she's able to map out a route through Water Country, when maps do not even exist. Even more impressive is how she can walk through the swamps and murkiness of the lands with no visible trouble, how she can catch food and forage wild plants, how she can avoid all trouble, and never picks anything poisonous to eat.

Before Shiroi-sama, Kimimaro has never known of any of these survival skills. Slowly but surely, however, the woman teaches him.

The boy sees that she is a survivor, and sees that she is making him one as well.

* * *

Kimimaro is baffled with how many things Shiroi-sama seems to carry on her at all times.

"The magic of sealing scrolls," the woman says, eyes dancing full of mirth, as she flicks her wrist to roll up a scroll. The bland roots become seasoned with spices, and freshly cooked rice is added to their meal.

After they eat, she takes out something from her many pockets, and hands it to him. The boy carefully takes it, looking down at the scroll, before up at his master.

"It's an empty sealing scroll. You should start carrying one," she says, eyes crinkling and giving a slight smile down at him. "I'll teach you later on how to make them, along with other basic fuinjutsu."

"You will?" he blurts out, staring at her with wide eyes. His gaze drops to the scroll, and he brings it to his chest, holding it gently like a treasure. To him, it is. It is something that Shiroi-sama has given him; that alone makes it precious.

It does not matter if it's something simple. It doesn't matter if it's something that can be easily fabricated. He's never been given a gift before. Something that is his, and his alone.

An itching begins at the back of his eyes, and his vision momentarily goes blurry. His eyes are tearing up, he realizes.

The odd thing, however, is that he is not sad. So then why…?

"Shiroi-sama…Are there times when tears aren't for sadness?" he asks her meekly, ducking his head in embarrassment, hiding his watering eyes from her piercing gaze.

The woman gives a low hum. "Tears are used to express sadness and pain, and can be triggered when yawning or sleepy. However, they can also trigger when someone is happy."

"Happy?" he parrots, confused. He has never heard of such a thing.

"Yes. People can cry when they're overwhelmed with happiness," she replies, before gently placing a hand on his head, and smoothing down his hair. Her gaze is full of compassion and warmth, and it makes the burning in his eyes worse.

Ah. That makes sense. That's what he's doing now.

"Th-thank you," the boy chokes out, through sniffles. Arms wrap around him, and push him forwards, until he's leaning against a warm chest.

"You're welcome, Kimimaro-kun," Shiroi-sama says, voice soft and knowing, with a meaning far deeper than such a simple acknowledgement.

That moment is the first time Kimimaro cries from happiness.

* * *

"Do you know the basic three jutsu?"

Kimimaro blinks up slowly at the woman. He can't help his brow from furrowing, a bit in confusion and anxiety.

"Basic three…?" he repeats, feeling lost.

Shiroi-sama gives him a blank look, before it morphs into one of exasperation, as she pinches the bridge of her nose. The boy feels his heart fall down to his gut.

"Don't tell me…Your clan never taught you those techniques?" she asks. The look in her eyes is blazing and angry, like an untamable flame.

The boy flinches, ducking his head and hunching over himself. "I-I-I'm sorry," he murmurs, giving his master a bow. "I…I am a failure, and—"

A hand falls onto his head. It's gentle. Nothing like a hard hand of a displeased adult; nothing like he's used to.

"I'm **not** blaming you for this, Kimimaro-kun," Shiroi-sama says firmly.

Tentatively, the boy raises his head—her hand still gently on top of it—and looks at her through his lashes.

"You…You're not?" he asks, voice meek.

The woman's face softens. "I'm not," she confirms, voice gentle. "The blame should be on your Clan, for never teaching you…

I could **never** blame you."

Kimimaro stares up at Shiroi-sama, and feels something within him flutter. The woman kneels down so that they're at eye-level, and gives him a gentle smile.

"I'll teach you these skills, Kimimaro-kun. You're a child, and still just learning, after all."

Kimimaro feels his eyes burn and his heart thump in staccato. He's…He's never had such a patient teacher, before.

Shiroi-sama does not look at him, and demands excellence or instant success. She looks at him, and recognizes that he can't be perfect, but isn't displeased when she sees this.

Kimimaro promises to himself, that he'll do his best to learn from the red-eyed woman, and please her.

* * *

"What's this?" Kimimaro asks, confused, when Shiroi-sama holds out a skewer of food towards him to take. Shiroi-sama has a stick for herself in her hand, and is eating the balls of white that are on the skewer.

"Dango. Try it," she replies, in-between bites.

The white-haired boy looks between his master, and the food in his hand. Slowly, he mimics the woman, taking a ball of dango in his teeth, sliding it off the skewer, and chewing on it.

It's…sweet. Very sweet.

It's like a…bread? But it has a sticky sweetness to it, like it has a lot of sugar.

He's never had sweets before.

In a place like Kirigakure, where orphans and the homeless starved on the streets, the citizens were much more partial towards **actual** food. Meals. Thing that filled the belly.

Sweets were a luxury in Kirigakure. Only the nobles of Water ate them regularly.

Not to mention...Sweets were a waste of time and resources to make. They had nothing of nutritional value, for a warrior. They were just extra fat and calories.

It was…Well. He really didn't have words to describe the little puffs of sugar. They overwhelmed his flat taste buds. And eating it went against everything about his previous eating habits, his life…

He tentatively ate another.

He takes a few moments to chew slowly, savoring the taste and texture. He…still didn't have words for it. It was very chewy. And sugary.

Was this what cake tasted like…? He's heard of cake. Kaguya's Clan Head had cake on his birthdays, Kimimaro thinks. He saw the pastry, whenever he was taken in to give his congratulations to the man, on the same day every year.

The boy finishes chewing on his second ball of dango. His stomach twists, his blood pumps quickly in his veins, and he doesn't think he can finish the rest of the skewer. It is too much.

The white-haired youth holds out the rest of the dango wordlessly, to the woman who gave it to him. She gives him a look, one eyebrow raised, but takes it.

"You don't want any more?" Shiroi-sama asks, confused.

"T-Too sweet," Kimimaro mumbles, looking away nervously.

"Ah. You've never had much sugar before, have you?" the woman muses. Heat rises in his cheeks, and he carefully meets her gaze, before shaking his head. "Well, I suppose it's my fault for starting you off with so much sugar. I'll just give you a piece of candy in the future, until you can get used to it."

The boy nods, eyes wide. She'll give him candy…? How much sweets does Shiroi-sama **have**?

"Dango isn't even the sweetest dessert I have, so…Wow, your tolerance is really low," the woman blinked her red eyes, before tilting her head slightly. "I'll have to keep your small taste palette in mind, in the future."

The woman brings the skewer he returned up to her mouth, and eats the two other bits of dango in quick succession. Maybe…she really likes sweets? Is **that** why she has dango and candy, and offered him some?

"Is…Is dango cake?" he asks, after a few moments. Shiroi-sama encourages him to ask questions, and she always answers them very thoroughly. She doesn't ever mock him or disapproves, if he doesn't understand a concept.

"It's a pastry," she starts, her voice falling into what he's dubbed her 'lecture mode _'_. "It's a dumpling and sweet made from rice flour. There's many different variations and flavors. I gave you the basic Anko dango, which is made with sweetened red bean paste."

"Oh…" he replies dumbly, fiddling with his sleeves. Why had he expected dango to be a sweet delicacy such as **cake** …? He wasn't important enough to have cake.

"Wait a minute...Does this mean you've **never** had cake before?" Shiroi-sama asks suddenly. Kimimaro jolts, eyes wide as he looks up at her. Did he say his thoughts out loud?!

Oh, how **embarrassing**.

The boy's face warms, as he squeaks out, "N-No."

" _Jesus Christ_ on a cracker," the woman says, shaking her head in disbelief. Kimimaro doesn't know what a _Jiisuus Kuraisuto_ is, but maybe it's a food, if it's on a cracker. He's not quite sure why his master is talking about another food right now.

"So then...You've never had cake on your birthday?" Shiroi-sama asks slowly, concerned.

The Kaguya shakes his head. "O-Only the Clan Head ever had any, I believe." The woman's reaction to this statement is one of dawning horror and pity.

"Alright, that's something I'm going to have to fix," Shiroi-sama states determinately, pointing at him. "You're getting a cake on your birthday, kid."

"E-Eh?" Kimimaro asks, startled.

"When is it?" the woman presses, staring intently at him. "When's your birthday?"

"Ah…J-June fifteenth," he answers shyly, confused.

"Huh. Just half a month before my own," she muses, before she gives a small smile. "That's good to know."

The woman ruffles his hair, and Kimimaro can't help but be dazed and confused.

Shiroi-sama, she…She's going to get him a cake? For his birthday?

When this realization hits him, his blood begins to rush quickly through his veins, and for a moment, his heart sings.

He…Shiroi-sama finds him important enough to waste resources on, to give him a delicacy like a cake. Just because he has never had any. Just for his birthday.

For some reason, Kimimaro cannot stop smiling.

* * *

Shiroi-sama is a phenomenal cook. No matter the ingredients she uses, her food always turns out to be delicious. She seems to magically turn even the oddest, near inedible things into food.

It could be that Kimimaro is biased, however. He's used to eating bland, basic dishes in strict portions. Nutritious enough to fuel a training shinobi-to-be, but without much variation.

When living in Mist, options in any foods aside from seafood is rather…limited. The bogs and swamps, the high humidity, the carnage…it wasn't good for growing things. The Land of Water relied heavily on its fishing industry for food, and imported rice from Rice Country. Anything else was a luxury.

However, Shiroi-sama carried spices and dried foods in sealing scrolls. Sometimes, she pops out fresh ingredients and uses them to make different dishes, to add variety to their diets.

She makes things he never knew existed, with strange ingredients and even stranger names. Things like spaghetti, pancakes, fried bananas, seviche, gumbo, barbacoa, German potatoes, hot pockets, fajitas, French fries, acquacotta. The foods are a novelty, full of different tastes and combinations.

He asks her where the dishes come from. The answer is often a vague "from my hometown".

Even though everything Shiroi-sama makes is delicious, Kimimaro usually just eats what amounted to the small portions he was given, back in the jails of the Kaguya Compound.

Food is a luxury and not a right, in this war-torn country, where blood runs freely. The clans and wealthy don't have to worry about rationing or shortages, but even then, food was dispersed in careful increments amongst his clansmen.

However, he starts noticing that Shiroi-sama starts to slowly increase his portions. An extra piece of meat, a tablespoon of rice, a few slices of vegetables. Things that can easily be overlooked, small things that gets him acclimated to eating more.

He asks her why she gives him so much food, at one point, where his belly is pleasantly full and he's snuggled into her side during the night.

"You're a growing boy. You need to eat more, so you can get taller and stronger," she says, voice gaining a chiding undertone. "I have plenty of food to feed you, so I'm going to get you used to eating the amount you're going to need."

It takes Kimimaro a few days to realize that what Shiroi-sama does is considered 'mother-henning'. The thought makes him stifle down a ridiculously pleased giggle.

* * *

Kimimaro never realized that Shiroi-sama had a Summoning Contract, until one day a small, horned dog appeared in a burst of fire.

The pale-haired boy stared in awe at the black-furred dog that held a menacing collar of bones and had horns and could breathe fire, but wore a little white doggy robe and an oversized satchel. It was a very odd contrast.

" _Hermes_ , meet my charge, Kimimaro. Kimimaro-kun, this is Hermes. He's one of my Hellhounds, and is my most trusted messenger," the woman introduces, with an amused quirk of her lips.

"Hello!" the dog chirped. The boy startled, eyes wide, at the fact that the animal could speak. "It's nice to meet you!"

The little dog's tongue lolled out, and it padded forwards, sniffing at Kimimaro. The boy sat stock still, only to be broken from the tension with a giggle, when Herumiisu licked his cheek.

"It's nice to meet you as well," the boy said, hovering a hand on top of the dog's head. He looked over to Shiroi-sama, who merely gave him a knowing smile and nodded her head, and he pet the dog's very fluffy head.

Herumiisu gave a happy yip, jumping in place excitedly, and licked Kimimaro's cheek again. The boy gave a happy shriek, flailing as the dog bowled him over on his futon and began to lick his face.

"H-Hey, that tickles!" he spluttered, moving his face around and giggling. He tried to bat the dog's wet nose and tongue away, but ended up only ruffling the animal's very soft, fluffy fur.

After the assault—which took a good five minutes, with him **swearing** that Shiroi-sama was watching and silently laughing at the entire ordeal— there came a short whistle. "Alright, boy, stop getting slobber all over Kimimaro-kun. You can play with him later, but I have a little present you need to deliver right now."

"Yes, Master!" Herumiisu barked, getting off of the pink-faced boy and padding towards Shiroi-sama. "Kimimaro is a very nice human pup, Master! I like him very much!"

"That's good," the woman chuckled, eyes twinkling. "The two of you will be seeing more of each other in the future, after all."

The boy beamed happily, even as he used the sleeve of his yukata to wipe his face from the slobber of dog kisses.

The child noted that somehow, the woman wrote an entire letter on a scroll, while he'd been preoccupied with a licking mass of fluffy fur. She rolled up the scroll with a flick of her hand, putting it in a small bag, along with a fox toy. She put the bag inside the satchel on the dog's back.

"Head on over to Naruto's," she said, tone full of fondness and eyes full of warmth, as she stroked the Hellhound's head. "And, yes. You can stay over there for a bit, so he can play with you."

Herumiisu let out a happy yip, before disappearing in a burst of flames.

Kimimaro bit his lip, staring at where the dog had disappeared, his heart falling. He…He's never heard of Naruto. Was this person special to Shiroi-sama?

"Go on." The boy jolted out of his reverie, looking up at his master, who was looking at him with an odd softness. "Ask. You look like you're dying to."

His head is swimming, full to the brim with questions. Where and when did Shiroi-sama get this Summoning Contract? Are there more Hellhounds she can Summon? Do they do more than just send messages? Does she send letters a lot?

Kimimaro has all these questions, but the one that bursts past his lips is, "Who's Naruto?"

The woman blinks her red eyes, looking taken aback. "Naruto…Is a boy that I know from Konoha, who's a bit younger than you. He's… sort of like a little brother."

For some reason, the answer does nothing to quell the churning in his stomach, to please his rushing thoughts and the dark whispers in the back of his head.

Is this Naruto more important to Shiroi-sama than him? Will…Will Shiroi-sama abandon Kimimaro, because she loves this Naruto more?

Jealousy. He thinks this is what jealousy is. He's seen it in the eyes of others, and he's felt the ache once or twice—but he's never realized he knew the emotion intimately, before today.

A familiar hand lands on top of his head, ruffling his hair. "Maybe I'll take you to meet him, in a few months. I'm sure he'll be ecstatic to meet you," the woman says, a lopsided grin on her pale lips. "He's an orphan too, so he'll probably want to adopt you as his older brother."

Kimimaro's face flushes in shame. If this little Naruto was an orphan as well, then…Then he shouldn't think so harshly of the boy.

It had never occurred to him, before this moment, that Shiroi-sama had other important people in her life. That she's supported and cared for other people, has adopted them into her family.

But…But now, Kimimaro thinks that maybe (possibly, hopefully) he's a part of this as well…That he's also someone important to Shiroi-sama.

* * *

The duo are in a bog, surrounded by scraggly, thin trees. Kimimaro is huddled by his master's side, as they walk. The weather has been turning chillier, as the months get closer to Winter.

It's mid October, and the mists get thicker and cooler. The boy thanks his lucky stars that Shiroi-sama's route isn't anywhere near the northern ends of Water Country, because those areas are much colder than the mainland. It's also where the Yuki Clan is said to reside.

"Do you know how to throw kunai and shuriken?"

Kimimaro nods. "My training mostly had to do with my _Shikotsumyaku_ technique, but I also learned the basics of throwing weapons."

"Show me."

The boy carefully takes the three kunai and shuriken Shiroi-sama gives him. He doesn't bring up the fact that he could have used his own supplies, because the woman is generous, and he shouldn't question her or go against her wishes.

The child shifts his posture, draws back his arm, and throws the kunai in quick succession, making a perfect line in the middle of one of the trees, followed by the shuriken. He looks back towards the woman, who is giving him a small, pleased grin.

"That's very good," she tells him, and the boy beams at the praise. The woman goes to the tree and rips the weapons from it, idly twirling one of the kunai in her hand. "I think I should show you how to augment weapons with chakra."

The kunai in her hand glows blue with chakra, and she throws it at a small tree. It goes right through, into the back of another. A hole gapes from the first tree it struck. Taking another kunai, the woman wreathes it with a small flickering of flames, and the next tree sports a large, smoldering hole.

Kimimaro can't help his eyes widening, as he stares in awe at the sight.

"You have a bloodline, but I can feel that you have a minor Earth affinity, like me," Shiroi-sama intones, when she takes out the weapons she used from their targets. "I believe it's since you use your bones, and bones are made of different minerals and nutrients… that ties you to _doton_."

The woman's red eyes seem to glow in the mist, glimmering like flames. She holds out a kunai towards him, hilt-first. Reverently, with slightly shaking hands, he takes it from her.

"I'm going to show you how to use chakra in steel weapons. Once you've got that down, and we're safely on the mainland, I'm going to start coaching you in Earth jutsu."

Kimimaro's never practiced any techniques aside from his _Shikotsumyaku_. His bloodline was his main, and strongest, thing in his arsenal. Everything he's learned had played along with it, in order to make it stronger and more versatile.

Shiroi-sama has already taught him the _Kawirimi_ , the _Henge_ , and the _Bushin_ jutsu. The thought of her imparting more techniques that didn't tie directly into his kekkei genkai makes him feel…Happy.

She thinks he can use other skills that are not his bloodline, thinks that he can branch out from a monster of bones, forged for battle.

In that moment, Kimimaro realizes that he has the potential to be so much more than he'd been raised, as a Kaguya.

* * *

Shiroi-sama lets Kimimaro help her make their meals.

She coaches him through how to skin animals, how to cut and chop vegetables, on how much salt or pepper to add to dishes, how to tell when meat is cooked properly. Even when they camp out in the humid lands and aren't surrounded by safe walls of towns, she takes out clean knives and pots and cutting boards in order to teach him.

It's an experience.

Kimimaro has never used weapons in order to create things. He's always used knives to destroy, to hurt, to **fight**. Never to…make meals.

He's not very good at cooking, he finds. But Shiroi-sama is patient. She smiles and encourages him when he gets something right, and gently explains and finishes tasks when he fails.

And even when his vegetables come out chopped uneven, or his noodles a little burnt, or his meat a bit raw—a far cry from the perfection of her own cooking—she always thanks him warmly for his help.

Even though Kimimaro isn't very good at cooking, he starts to enjoy the activity. Because it's something he does with Shiroi-sama.

* * *

The last day of October, Shiroi-sama stops them in a small settlement. She finds them lodging, slaps seals over the entire room, and starts riffling through many of her scrolls.

Kimimaro is resigned to spending his day inside the safety of the room, alone, while Shiroi-sama goes out to buy things or talk to people.

But then the woman unseals a large pumpkin with a carved face, a dish that looks to be some sort of pastry, and a pile of orange and black decorations.

"Today, we're going to celebrate _Halloween_ ," the woman says, putting the pumpkin and pie on the rickety little table in the room, before picking up the decorations. "It's a holiday from my home, and it deserves an entire day to celebrate."

The boy sits on the futon in shock, watching as Shiroi-sama starts to hang up the decorations of fall leaves and spiders with an energy that he never knew she possessed. After covering the dull, cracked, waterlogged walls, the woman nods at her handiwork.

The white-haired woman then sits down next to Kimimaro, a smile spreading across her face and a enthusiastic brightness in her eyes, and starts to explain the wonders of the holiday.

Shiroi-sama spent the entire day with him, morning until night, chatting with him and smiling and laughing. He learned about the harvest, about jack-o-lanters and haystacks and corn mazes and haunted houses and witches and wizards and trick-or-treating.

Kimimaro went to sleep that night, snuggling into Shiroi-sama's side. His belly was full of pie, his head full of interesting stories and legends from his master's homeland, and most importantly, his heart overflowing with warmth.

He's looking forwards to next year's _Harroween_.

* * *

The closer the duo get to the coast, the more lenient Shiroi-sama gets.

She takes them through a route that goes through more settlements, as the temperature starts to slowly drop, the mist solidifying thicker in the November weather. She always makes sure to find a place for them to sleep in, with a roof and four walls.

But instead of hiding him in lodging's room, once they reach town, she allows him to leave with her—outside its protection, plastered full of seals she always slaps on the door and walls. She takes him with her to the streets of the small towns and villages they visit, as she tries to find work or supplies.

"Never leave my side," she always tells him. "Don't ever speak of your clan, or of Kirigakure, to strangers." Kimimaro will then cling to her sleeve, all but attached to her hip, ghosting across mist-filled streets and through back alleys together.

Shiroi-sama always makes sure he's disguised, so that he will not be recognized as easily as a Kaguya. A hat to shove on his head, a wrap to hide his hair, dyes to turn white hair into dark hues. Sometimes, she even puts make-up on him or carefully walks him through _Henge_ -ing himself, although those times are rarer.

"Why don't we Henge into disguises all the time?" he asks her once, watching as she goes through her scrolls to find a disguise for him.

"You can never be too careful," she murmurs. "A ninja with a good enough grasp in genjutsu or espionage can pick up the littlest of discrepancies in an illusion. Your skills in Henge and espionage are just in its beginning stages. Right now, Water Country isn't the best place to teach you how to perfect those skills. That will come later."

The boy can't help but grin to himself as he nods in affirmation. They're getting very close to leaving the Lands of Water for the mainland. And he has no doubts that Shiroi-sama will keep her promise.

It's also a bit fun, to put on disguises. Shiroi-sama is very good at it. She can even change herself into a very convincing man, and act as if it's the most natural thing in the world for her.

Shiroi-sama does a multitude of odd jobs, as she takes them through the streets of settlements. She stops bandits, rebuilds buildings, carries things, chops firewood.

But she also doesn't just do things for money or food or lodgings. She'll help a collapsed old man, carry someone's bags for them, cook a family a meal, fix someone's roof, make a fire to warm up a homeless man's bones.

"It's important to help others, Kimimaro. One action can change someone's life, or brighten their day. And in this world, there needs to be more hope, more goodness, more giving."

The boy nods, and hopes to take the lesson to heart.

After all, if it weren't for Shiroi-sama's giving nature, he wouldn't be here with her right now.

* * *

Shiroi-sama can walk through the darkest and dankest places in Water Country, and she is never afraid.

The woman doesn't shy away from the thugs or the thieves that hide in the dark alleys. She doesn't falter, when she takes herself and Kimimaro through the _Akasen_ , if there's one in the settlement they're stopping by.

She is shadows and strength and fire, and it's like she's at home, in the underworld.

Sometimes, people recognize her on sight. Kimimaro can tell, because those on the streets will quiet when she passes by, will freeze and stare at her. People nod and bow, or call out to her, or simply give her a knowing look, to acknowledge her.

It doesn't matter that she disguises herself half the time. The lowlifes of Water Country see her calmness in the face of darkness, her confidence amongst them, and they realize that she is someone powerful and capable.

And when she stops to give candy to the little orphans running about, takes out her sealing scrolls to give meals to the orphanages, teaches the _Akasenko_ how to find food in the area, gives small sums as donations to entertainer women, hands onigiri and helpful tips to thieves, they realize that she is also someone forgiving and charitable. Someone who sees the worth in them all.

"Why do you do this?" one dolled up entertainer woman asks Shiroi-sama, painted nails grasping on the white-haired kunoichi's sleeve, standing at the doorway of a building bathed in red light from the nearby lanterns.

The other painted women of the entertainment house hover in the background of the door, leaning forwards in interest. The whole street goes quiet. Customers and workers and orphans and thieves all near subconsciously, wanting to hear the answer.

Kimimaro stands next to his master, looking up attentively, wondering the answer to this as well. Wanting confirmation from the woman.

Shiroi-sama starts, her wide-eyed gaze flickering quickly around her, at the attentive audience. A furrow comes up between her fine brows, and she looks confused and mildly uncomfortable. "Because…it's the right thing to do."

A disbelieving murmur ripples through the street. The boy smiles up at his master knowingly. That's just how Shiroi-sama is.

Ripples turn to waves, and the murmurs spread.

 _Seijatachi_ , she gets called more and more, when she takes Kimimaro with her to her rounds through the slums. _Seijatachi Shiro_ — the White Saint.

These people of Water Country call her a saint, and the boy understands why.

In the Land of Water, it's every man for themselves, a dog eat dog world. A land full of blood, where the strong preyed on the weak. Where food was a luxury, hope didn't exist, and you could end up dead in a ditch or a back alley.

Charity out of the goodness of one's heart just didn't **happen** in these parts. There was always a price, or a motive, or a catch. Even Kimimaro knew these facts, and he was rather sheltered.

Kimimaro decides that one day, he wants to be just as great as Shiroi-sama. Because he wants to be as kind and giving and strong as her.

* * *

It's mid November, when the white-haired duo reach the West coast of Water Country, a seaside town named Kurabu-Dokku that was full of docks and people.

It's a place different from all the others Kimimaro has been to. (Though, really, he hasn't been to many in his short life.)

Kurabu-Dokku is almost as big as Kirigakure itself, he thinks. It's much more friendly, even if they're still in Water Country. People actually talk and mingle with one another, here. The markets are crowded, full of happy chatting and colors and smells. There are different people—people that don't look or dress like Water Country natives.

It's the first time, really, that Kimimaro has been in such a situation. It's a bit of a culture shock.

The pale boy walks closely next to Shiroi-sama, clinging onto one of her hands, not wanting to get lost in the crowds. Shiroi-sama is able to traverse the colorful market stalls and people with ease. She doesn't bat an eye at the different people and hair and clothes, or the array of foods on display that has him mesmerized.

But at some point, as they went further inland through the markets, she becomes uneasy. It's something subtle, but he can see that her posture stiffens slightly, and her gaze is piercing and searching.

Kimimaro's stomach gives a gurgle, from seeing and smelling so many delicious foods at once. He flushes slightly, when Shiroi-sama gives him an amused glance.

"Hungry?" she asks, nodding a head over to a stall of grilled sandwiches. "Let's get you some lunch."

Before the boy could try (and probably fail) to convince her that he was fine, the pale-haired woman had already bought him a savory-looking grilled salmon sandwich.

"Here, Kimimaro-kun," she said, handing him the food wrapped in a napkin.

"Ah—thank you, Shiroi-sama," he replied, eyes bright and a fond smile on his face. He took a deep inhale, mouth watering, and gave a bite. It tasted as delicious as it smelled.

"You're welcome. Now, come. Let's not dally any longer," the red-eyed woman said curtly, gently putting an arm around his shoulders and steering him forwards, through the crowds.

Knowing that something was bothering her, the boy staid silent, eating his sandwich. Once the duo passed the markets, Kimimaro was finished with his meal, and she was much less tense.

"We were being watched," Shiroi-sama told him in an undertone. "Back in the market. And I felt some strong chakra signatures."

"Ninjas…?" he asked, feeling his blood pump. Whether with fear, or with excitement, he's not sure.

"Yes," she confirmed. "So I think it's time for us to find a hotel room."

Kimimaro felt his spirits sink. "You're going to make me stay alone in a hotel room while we're here..." he says, already knowing the answer.

"I'm afraid so," Shiroi-sama said apologetically, smoothing down his hair with a hand. "It's too dangerous to take you with me in such a populated place, **especially** since there are ninja here."

"I understand," he said, biting his lip and trying not to sigh.

So close…They were **so** close to leaving Water Country for good…

"It'll just be a few days, until I can find us a ship that could take us to the mainland. Hold on, alright?" the woman said, giving a comforting squeeze of his shoulder. He nodded, and she gave him a small, appreciative smile.

* * *

On that day, Shiroi-sama found them a hotel room. She slapped her usual amount of seals on the room, and then Summoned another Hellhound.

This dog was as small as Herumiisu. It was half black and half brown, with two-inch horns, a small whip-like tail, a collar of bone-like material around its neck, and glowing red eyes.

It also talked, like Herumiisu, and spoke in a voice of a boy around Kimimaro's age.

"Shiroi!" the dog yipped, bouncing on its paws. "Geeze, it's been a while! Why haven't you been Summoning me, huh? I was getting lonely, y'know!"

"Sorry, _Keroberos_. I've been trying to keep a low profile, and Battle Summons aren't exactly…discreet," the woman drawled, rolling her red eyes, but crouching down to scratch the dog on its head regardless.

"Never mind that!" the dog yipped. Kimimaro swears that it was pouting, even though he's not sure dogs can even pout. "You haven't introduced me to the human pup! How long have you been mothering him, huh?"

Shiroi-sama gave a snort. "Keroberos, meet my new charge, Kimimaro-kun. Kimimaro-kun, meet—"

"Keroberos!" the dog interjected, puffing its chest out with a raised head. "Son of the great Boss of the Hellhounds, _Cerberus_! But you can call me Kero, Kimi-tan!"

The now dubbed 'Kimi-tan' blinked, his mouth titling up into an amused half-smile. For a Summon that was supposedly the son of the Boss Summons of his species, Kero acted…different from what would be expected for his station.

"I'm currently training Keroberos up as a Battle Summons, so that he can grow stronger. Some day, he's going to take the throne of the Hellhounds. Some day in the **very** far future," Shiroi-sama explained, smirking down at the small dog, who gaped in offense.

Kero gave an exaggerated sniff. "Why, I never!"

Kimimaro stifled down a giggle that wanted to peal past his lips. "It's, ah, nice to meet you."

The small dog patted over to him, smelling him over. Like last time something similar happened, the boy froze, waiting.

The dog licked his hand, before padding back. "I approve of the human pup!" Then the dog turned to pout back at his Summoner. "How long have you had Kimi-tan, huh? I bet it was longer than just today!"

"For about…" the woman trailed off, looking at the ceiling and doing mental calculations. "The past three months, I believe."

Kero spluttered, before jumping around like a hyperactive rabbit. "Whaaaaaat?! No fair, no fair, no **fair**! You should've introduced me to him the very **second** you adopted him, Shiroi! I bet **Herumiisu** got to meet him first!" the dog whined, before tripping over its own paws, and falling onto a heap on the floor, keening.

It was a pitiful—and rather adorable— sight. Kimimaro got down on his knees, and hesitantly pat the dog on the head. "I'm sorry. I wish I got to meet you earlier, too, Kero-san."

Kero visibly perked up. "Really?" he asked, hopeful.

The boy nodded, smiling. "Really." Kero then proceeded to roll on his back, licking Kimimaro's hand happily.

Shiroi-sama muttered something about 'overdramatic pups' and 'stupid puppy dog eyes', before kneeling down with a sigh and rubbing the dog's belly. "I'm sorry for not introducing you earlier, as well."

"It's okay! All is forgiven!" the dog chirped, before leaping up and licking the woman's face.

Shiroi-sama proceeded to splutter. "H-Hey!" she exclaimed, leaning back on her heals. She caught Kero, lifting him from his midsection, and gave a small laugh. "What was that for?"

"Can't a dog give doggy kisses to their Summoner?" Kero asked cheekily.

"Not when it gets my face dirty, you stupid mutt," the woman huffed, still smiling sardonically. "I have to go out to find work, and I can't do that if I have puppy slobber all over me."

Despite the insults and exasperation, Shiroi-sama spoke to her Summons with warmth, fondness, love, and familiarity. It was obvious that she was very much used to the dog, and rather attached to him.

The pale woman set down the Hellhound gently on the floor, before standing. "Kero, I'm going out. Guard Kimimaro-kun for me, please," she said seriously, staring down gravely at the small dog. "Take him to your realm, if something too dangerous pops up."

"Yes, Shiroi!" Kero replied instantly, vibrating in place excitedly.

The woman riffled through her many pockets, pulling out a scroll. She unsealed a stack of loose-leaf parchment, brushes, ink, an inkwell, and a small book on kanji.

"Kimimaro-kun, I want you to practice your calligraphy. You need to have good penmanship, before I start you off on fuinjutsu," she said, placing the items on the table in the corner of the room. "I don't want you practicing anything with chakra, just it case."

"Because of the ninja you felt in the town?" the boy asked, just for clarification.

"That's right. I want you to play it safe," she confirmed, before unsealing a few books. "Here's a few history and theory books." She also handed him another sealing scroll. "And if I don't come for lunch and dinner, you can find meals inside here. Don't unseal too much, and eat a good, balanced meal."

"Yes, Shiroi-sama," he nodded, clutching at the scroll.

"Yeesh, you act like his mother," Kero snickered, earning him a glare from the woman and a surprised blush from Kimimaro.

"Be good. Stay safe. Kero, you better not slack off. I'll be back." In a blink of the eye, Shiroi-sama was gone.

Dazedly, Kimimaro shuffled over to the table, and plopped down in front of it. He rifled through the books and supplies, before opening the kanji book. Kero padded over, settling down next to him.

She…acts like a mother?

Kimimaro had never really thought about that. Not since those first few days he was with Shiroi-sama.

The pale boy puts a hand idly on his chest, feeling the steady _thump thump thump_ of his heart, and his lips twitch upwards.

* * *

They stay in Kurabu-Dokku for three days, while Shiroi-sama tries to find work and a passage to the mainland.

Each day, Shiroi-sama Summons Kero, who acts as a guard dog and watches over Kimimaro. Each day, Shiroi-sama disappears for long stretches of time, off to explore the town to try and find connections she can use amongst the masses of people and ships.

The woman returns in the evening, after lunch but before dinner, that third day. She has a pleased smile on her face, gathering their things.

"I found a ship, and talked to an… **interesting** person," she says, organizing and sealing up Kimimaro's study materials. "Thank you for your work, Keroberos. You can go back now."

"Alright—but you better tell me all about what happened, later!" the dog yipped, before disappearing in a puff of chakra smoke.

"Who did you speak with, Shiroi-sama?" Kimimaro asks, curious, as he readies his things.

"Mei Terumī. She's the leader of a rebellion group known as The Resistance, who are fighting against the Mizukage's rule," the woman explains, an oddly pleased, smug grin on her face. "She's for the protection of kekkei genkai, and has two of them—Lava and Boil Release. She also wants to stop the bloodshed in Mist."

"That… sounds nice," the boy admits, intrigued. "I hope Terumī-san can manage it…But why would you speak with her?"

Shiroi-sama chuckled. " **She** was the one who found **me** , Kimimaro-kun. She seeked me out, I listened to what she had to say. She ended up asking for my help, and I gave her it," she explained.

Then an odd, far-eyed look came onto her face, her voice heavy with an emotion that he couldn't comprehend. The closest thing he could equate it to was wistfulness. "She was certainly…Enchanting."

The boy blatantly stared, as his mentor was overcome with a bout of girlish giggles. Her face was flushed pink, and her eyes gleamed. She put a hand against her warm cheek and let out a sigh, looking off dazedly at a random point in the room.

"O…kay?" Kimimaro replied eventually, feeling very much confused at the sudden turn of personality.

Was this normal…? He hopes it was normal. He wasn't sure what to do in this situation.

After a few moments, Shiroi-sama seemed to shake herself out of…whatever she was doing. "Ahem. Yes. So." She cleared her throat, looking somewhat embarrassed. "Right. The boat. I found one, ah, earlier. A boat, that is."

The woman was babbling. Kimimaro still eyed her in mild confusion. Shiroi-sama was usually much more…coherent.

"A boat, Shiroi-sama?" he asks tentatively, hoping she gets her equilibrium back.

The woman blinked her red eyes at him, nodding. Her cheeks went back to their previously creamy white color. "Yes. A boat that can take us to the mainland, without raising suspicion or attention. It will be leaving in an hour, I believe."

The boy gave himself an internal pat on the back, for managing to fix his mentor. She was back to normal, again.

The white-haired duo finished gathering their things and checking over their supplies, before checking out of the hotel. Kimimaro attached himself to the woman's sleeve, as she led them through winding roads and stalls and throngs of people.

After a half hour walk—made long, because Shiroi-sama made them double back a few times to shake off any trails, just in case—the two arrived down to the docks.

Kurabu-Dokku had what seemed to be **dozens** of docks. It was a seaside town that was used the most for civilians to enter Water Country, which explained the amount of people, and the variety of them. The main business was fishing, and Kurobu-Dokku was touted to have the greatest variety of fish in the Elemental Nation.

At least, those were the rumors, and the sales pitch of the natives of the town. Looking at the impressive amount of ships and crews of sailors down in this area, Kimimaro felt that maybe it was all true. After all, Water Country isn't exactly a great place for tourism, and it's main industry was fish. (Unless people counted ruthless assassins as a viable industry; if so, then Kirigakure definitely had that export down pat.)

After a bit of maneuvering through around the sailors and supplies scattered around, the duo stood in front of a ship that held a skull and crossbones painted on the main sail, wearing a straw hat. In front, an orange-haired woman with tattoos was counting up crates of dubious content, checking things off a checklist. A green-haired man with countless swords strapped on his back loaded the items onto the ship.

The swordsman elbowed the woman in the side, jerking his head curtly over to them. The woman hurriedly disembarked, landing in front of Shiroi-sama.

"You're lucky that we came at this time for an emergency trip, y'know. 'M pretty sure we're tha only crew that knows your pervy a—" the orange-haired woman paused, mid-word, shooting a look down at Kimimaro. His mentor's mouth was a thin line. "Er, ya old man."

"I'm very grateful," Shiroi-sama replied, nodding at the woman. "Thank you for doing this, Namie-san."

"Eh, don't mention it," the tattooed woman replied, flippantly waving a scarred hand. "Really. Don't. Tha less I owe that fu—er, **friggin'** —lecher, the better. Don't matter if he goes way back with tha crew."

The woman led them up, boarding the ship. It was a humble ship, full of creaking boards and dents, but Kimimaro thought that it held…character.

And for some reason, they had a baby reindeer on board. Apparently, it was their mascot. He never knew ships had mascots, before today, but this one did.

There were a few other odd characters on the ship. Some were part of the six-man crew, some were passengers that were also being taken over to the mainland. Many of them were nice enough, but Kimimaro shyly stuck to his mentor's side— and was subsequently cooed over for "being such a cute little kid".

The scrutiny caused him to flush, and for his mentor to give an amused smirk.

Shiroi-sama cooked meals for everyone onboard, and vigilantly took watch, in case of attack. Kimimaro eventually fell asleep from the lulling sounds of the sea and rocking of the ship, snuggled into the woman's side.

* * *

It took a day and a half, but in the early hours of a November day, Kimimaro's feet touched land that wasn't part of the Bloody Mist.

The realization hit him, just then, as he looked back on the sprawling seas, that he left his home. He felt…nervous. A bit sad.

All he'd ever known was the bogs and swamps of Water Country, of the Mist that gave Kiri its namesake, of the dark and dank.

But as when he looked up at the white-haired woman by his side, he also felt…at peace. Safe. Even a bit excited.

"We're here. We finally made it," Shiroi-sama said quietly, taking his hand in her warm one. "You're going to be safe now, Kimimaro."

The boy nodded, giving a smile up at the woman who saved him, protected him, taught him, fed him, clothed him, and (possibly, hopefully, maybe) even loved him.

And in that moment, Kimimaro knew he was never going to let go of her.


	14. Rin: Kannabi (Part 2)

Here's another whopper of a chapter, at 9k. These long updates are the reason why I take two weeks, instead of just one.

Here we are at Part 2 (Electric Boogaloo) of the Kannabi Bridge mission. Because happy fun times couldn't last forever. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

* * *

Reply to _Candisos_ : It seems like a lot of people approved the One Piece alternates/cameo from last chapter.

Reply to _Kookienova_ : Don't you worry, I'm continuing this story.

And also thank you to _Fellow_ for the three reviews in a row! Also, the sandwich is obviously an importance that couldn't be ignored, and everything's been incredibly cute and heartwarming so far, hasn't it?

* * *

Rin: Kannabi (Part 2)

* * *

Red eyes watched Rin intently, as she ran a Mystical Palm Jutsu over her injuries, green chakra illuminating her skin.

The scrutiny was…well, a bit off-putting, to be quite frank. It makes Rin a bit nervous. Not nervous enough to screw up in the Mystical Palm Jutsu (and wouldn't **that** be an embarrassing prospect? Iryo-ninjutsu and chakra control was supposed to be her **thing** ), but still.

What could Shiroi-san be thinking, as she watches her…? Maybe wondering if this is all the skill Rin has. The brunette knows that she's nothing particularly special. No distinct fighting style or weapons, no strength in her taijutsu. Just a little kunoichi relegated as support…

"Your medic abilities are amazing, Rin-san." At the red-eyed girl suddenly speaking, Rin jolts, canceling her jutsu.

"Eh?" she asks, bewildered, as she turns to look over at Shiroi-san with wide eyes.

The cloak-wearing girl catches her eyes, and…A smile spreads on her pale face, kind and warm.

"Iryo-ninjutsu is said to take perfect chakra control and a lot of study. You're barely, what? Thirteen?" Rin gives a tentative nod. "Thirteen years old, and you're a certified medic-nin. Someone who has the skills needed to save people's lives. Someone who can perform an important surgery in enemy territory, with nothing but the supplies on hand and her own chakra.

That type of precision and skill must take **years** of study in order to perfect." The older girl leans forwards, red eyes glimmering. Her voice had been steadily gaining a fervor and cadence of barely contained awe and excitement.

Something slides down in Rin's stomach, curling and churning. It's…Hm. Well, it's a mixture of pride, disbelief, and self-doubt.

She opens her mouth, ready to say something—anything—in response. The way the older girl speaks, it's like she considers Rin some sort of amazing, capable person. Like… Like Tsunade-sama—strong and talented—when all she is…

All she is is Rin Nohara, the little girl who got captured by the enemy. The girl who couldn't save her best friend and teammate, who was a burden on her team, who just wasn't good or **strong** enough, and, and—

It rankles her. The realization fills her, choking the breath from her lungs and the words on the tip of her tongue.

It's almost as if the cloaked girl can read her thoughts. "Rin-san, you can save and cure **dozens—** no **, hundreds—** of people. That's something special," Shiroi-san says firmly, managing to cut Rin off before she could say something negative about herself.

The Nohara girl clamps her mouth shut. She feels heat bloom in her cheeks, and knows that she's blushing.

"I don't think I have enough chakra control to do iryo-ninjutsu, to be honest," the red-eyed girl muses aloud. She raises a hand in front of her face, and there is a perfect sheen of blue chakra enveloping it, before it turns green. But the green flickers like a flame, before spluttering out like a small explosion.

"Ow, fuck!" Shiroi-san hisses, waving her hand. The rest of the chakra dissipates, showing the technique having backfired, leaving small chakra burns over her pale skin. The older girl gives a displeased hum. "See? It's not exactly something I can pick up on my first try."

For a first try, that was still a rather impressive attempt. The albino didn't even use hand seals. Just her own will and chakra.

"Here, let me see your hand," Rin murmurs, worrying her lip between her teeth. Shiroi-san blinks her red eyes for a few moments, before slowly extending the burned hand.

Rin carefully takes the girl's hand in hers, looking it over. Shiroi-san's hand is callused, full of nicks and small scars. Her palms are tough and pinker than the rest of her appendage, from old burns having healed over.

"It's not much. Don't worry yourself over it," the older girl says placidly.

The Leaf-nin doesn't listen. She carefully dredges up just a bit of chakra in her palms, a low green glow gently coaxing and healing the chakra burns.

Rin lets Shiroi-san's hand go. The other girl is giving her a frown full of downturned lips and furrowed brows. "You didn't need to do that," she says gruffly. "It was nothing. You should've saved your chakra."

"I'm a medic. Healing is kind of part of the job," the brunette defends herself, trying to bring levity to the statement by making it a joke.

"You should heal your squad instead." Red eyes give a pointed look over Rin's shoulder, where Kakashi is resting with his back pressed against a tree. (And probably also judging them.)

She feels her mouth purse. "Shiroi-san, **you're** part of the squad. Maybe for only this mission, but that still counts. You're our comrade."

Shiroi-san stares at her wide-eyed, as if Rin just grew a second head. The paler girl's mouth is slightly opened, but she's not saying a word, as if caught flat-footed.

A small chuckle falls past pale lips. "You Leaf-nin have such strong convictions…" the red-eyed girl muses, surveying Rin, an upwards lilt to her mouth.

At the word 'strong', the brunette's heart gives a stutter.

Shiroi-san— the intelligent, noble, serious, intense, frighteningly competent older kunoichi—considers one of **her** character traits to be 'strong'.

Shiroi-san also considers her skills to be 'amazing'. Considers her to be 'special', when she isn't. Not really.

Only her parents and her friends and her team consider Rin Nohara to be skilled or special. After all, she's just any other Chunin. Any other medic-nin helping out at the hospital. Any other kunoichi in Konoha's ranks.

Something **clicks** inside her. Warmth spreads from her heart that's pounding a fast _dokidokidoki_ rhythm, down to her toes and tips of her fingers.

Maybe…Maybe she's not useless after all. Maybe she's actually competent and skilled and strong, like she always wished she's been, but just hasn't realized it.

Maybe she's just been comparing herself too much to Tsunade-sama, trying to reach that high pedestal, that utter peak of excellence. Maybe she only just needs to stop looking around herself and fretting, trying to size herself up against other shinobi, despite the varying ages and skill sets and talents.

After all, it's one thing to hear about your good traits and accomplishments from those close to you…But to hear conviction and faith from people you don't know, from someone who Rin considered to be **above** her not even a few minutes ago…

It's…It's an experience. It's like a veil's been lifted.

And now Rin realizes that she **can** be strong, she **is** skilled, she **can** accomplish things, and she's **not** a burden. She may be young and still has a bit of soft naivety, but she's capable in her own right, and she's **good** at what she does.

Rin Nohara finally has an epiphany, triggered by acknowledgement from this pale girl with red eyes. She feels the distinct need to give Shiroi-san a bone-crushing hug, or to kiss her.

Before Rin could embarrass herself by doing either (or both), Minato-sensei breaks the moment by jumping from his previous high perch up a tree, crouching down soundlessly in the small clearing that the squad's been taking a break in.

"Are all of you okay to keep going?" the man asks, voice gentle, as he surveys the teenagers with concerned, bright blue eyes.

"Kakashi-san is no longer running on fumes," Shiroi-san notes idly, no doubt scrutinizing the boy with her sensor abilities. "I think the break has been doing him good."

Kakashi glares, sulking, and Minato-sensei's expression gains an undercurrent of amusement.

"Rin?" the man asks, turning his attention to the girl with the square clan markings on her cheeks.

The brunette pauses, thinking it over. During the break, she's managed to bandage her legs, go over both her injuries and Kakashi's, and managed to get her obstinate teammate to rest and eat something. No doubt, Shiroi-san was correct in her diagnosis of Kakashi being out of the dangerous realm of chakra exhaustion.

Considering their position relative to the (now destroyed) Iwa base, and Kannabi Bridge…They've probably rested enough. They should be able to travel for a few more hours, before having to break again, as long as they don't push themselves too far.

"I think we can go for a few more hours, sensei," she states.

"And I trust our medic-nin's prognosis," Shiroi-san says calmly. Rin gives a pleased flush, and a lopsided grin works itself onto Minato-sensei's face.

"Alright, then. Squad, move out!"

* * *

Being in the middle of the formation gives Rin a good view of Minato-sensei and Shiroi-san, and their actions.

Sure, she now can't blatantly stare at Kakashi from behind and his very nice profile (amongst other things she's noted because of hormones) but it's fascinating to see how the squad leader and the newcomer interact.

Shiroi-san has a calmness and grace about her that makes her seem cool and collected, but she has a tendency to misstep when sensei asks her something, and keeps trying to covertly shoot the man glances. Every time the blonde pays her attention, she averts her eyes, flustered.

It almost seems like Shiroi-san has some sort of **crush** on Minato-sensei. But Rin knows this is not the case, since she herself has had a crush on Kakashi, so she kind of knows how this type of thing works, how it feels and looks. Sure, the glances and flushing make it **seem** so—but there's no romantic adoration in the red gaze. More of a burning curiosity, mixed with awe and respect.

Safe to say, Shiroi-san does **not** have a crush on Minato Namikaze. Hero worship, though? Most definitely.

It probably started after the fear of being under his Killing Intent faded. Sensei was scary and ridiculously strong, when he showed it. And he's already a bit of a legend in his own right, an elite Jonin of Konoha, taught by Jiraiya of the Sannin.

At some point, Shiroi-san's gaze snaps to the ground. She stares intently, as she maneuvers amongst the tree branches, pace slowing slightly.

"Is something wrong?" sensei asks. The red-eyed girl completely misses the tree branch she was aiming for with a strangled noise, falls a short way, and pushes off of a passing trunk while swinging herself up using another branch.

Three strides, and Shiroi-san manages to catch up to her prior position, shooting a stern look over at Minato-sensei. The man chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly in a disarming way. "Whoops. Sorry for distracting you."

"I felt signatures. In the ground," the albino says tersely, shoulders tense. "A worrying amount of them. We should avoid hitting ground until we clear them."

"Iwa-nin?" Kakashi murmurs, at the same time sensei asks "How many?"

"I'm…I'm not fully sure if they're Iwa-nin," Shiroi-san says, voice halting. Her expression is one of concern and irritation. "They don't…Their signatures aren't tangible. Vaguely human-shaped, but…"

"Clones? That's what is sounds like," Minato-sensei muses with a hum.

"It's a good guess. But…" the pale girl trails off, eyes flickering across the ground, as if trying to force her eyes to activate like a Byakugan through sheer force of will. "I can't explain it properly. I just have a distinctly **bad** feeling about them, and there's a lot of them. I really, **really** suggest we don't drop down to take any chances."

"Duly noted," the blonde man says. "Should we keep going this way, or is there another path that will cut down on having to come into contact with the enemies?"

Shiroi-san pauses on a branch, leaning against the tree's trunk, and closes her eyes to concentrate. The squad stops nearby, taking a small breather as well.

Rin watches as the older girl's lips move quickly, without making any sound. The cloaked teen tilts her head down, before raising it and swiveling slowly around her, eyes still closed and murmuring to herself.

"We'll need to go a bit more East, and curve around. It will take a bit longer to get to our target, but it's safer," the cloaked teen eventually says.

"Lead the way, then," Minato-sensei says, giving a chivalrous gesture for Shiroi-san to go first.

The cloak-wearing girl gives a curt nod, and leads them on the route through the forest.

* * *

The sun began to set, casting orange-red light on the canopies, the dappled light a stark contrast to the growing shadows. As the hour grew later, the teens began to slow down, fatigue building up in their frames once more.

Well, Rin and Kakashi were getting on their last legs. For Shiroi-san, it was more of a problem of traveling through the trees while the dark hour descended on them. The red-eyed teen began to slip and miss branches more and more often, and once almost outright slammed face-first into a tree.

"For fuck's sakes," the girl snarled, managing to sloppily pivot and swing around the tree, back flipping and spinning, using her momentum to launch herself back into a firm stance a few yards away. It was an impressive display of flexibility and gymnastics. Rin would give it a ten out of ten.

"We should probably break for the night, before we lose total visibility," their squad leader noted idly, his serious gaze contrasting with his casual observation.

"I have no objections. Just allow me to scan the area," the red-eyed girl huffed, adjusting her hood back onto her head to hide the messy white hair cropping up.

The squad paused in place, and Shiroi-san closed her eyes once more to stretch out her sensor abilities.

"We can set camp in the area. There aren't any enemies here, just closer to the borders," the sensor eventually says. "The tricky part will maneuvering through the patrols—but if we stick to the forests south of Kannabi, where the vegetation and cover are more lush, we should be fine.

"You could sense all of that? From **this** distance?" Kakashi murmurs, bewildered.

"If I concentrate, stretch my sensory range, and fall into a near meditative trance? Then, yes, with a bit of work," the pale girl confirms, bobbing her head.

"Are you able to sense plants?" Minato-sensei asks, looking pleasantly surprised with the new information on the cloaked girl's abilities.

"I can. I just try not to, often. Too much white noise," Shiroi-san shrugs, gaze moving off to the side, seemingly unable to look Minato in the eyes.

"Fascinating," the man hums, before stretching, causing his back to give a series of pops. "I suppose this is a good a spot as any to make camp. Let's set up."

Rin quickly settles down onto the branch she was standing on with a grateful sigh, putting her back firmly to the tree, and unhooks her pack from her person. Somewhere adjacent to her, Kakashi does the same, but seems to slump more against the trunk, no doubt the most fatigued of the group.

"Wait. What," Shiroi-san deadpans, looking at the Leaf-nin, still carefully crouched on her tree limb.

"Hm?" Minato-sensei hums, somehow having managed to turn his bedroll into a hammock in the twelve seconds between his students settling down, and him setting down his pack.

"You mean to say," the red-eyed girl starts, voice wary. "That we're going to camp **here**. Right now. **Dozens** of feet above the ground. In trees. On hammocks."

Sensei blinks. Rin and Kakashi exchanged a glance. The three stare at the Grass native in mild befuddlement.

"Yes…?" the brunette eventually says haltingly.

"And this doesn't… **bother** you? In any way, shape, or form?" Shiroi-san presses.

"Why should it?" Kakashi retorts with a snort. "We're near enemy lines, on the war front, for a mission. Iwa-nin are primarily doton users who stick to the ground. The trees would be the safest place for us to camp."

The cloaked girl squints her red eyes, looking between the three Leaf-nin. "But…What if we fall?"

"We don't," the masked boy deadpans. "Fall, that is. We're shinobi from the Village Hidden in the **Leaves**. Camping up in trees is a skill that's learned and perfected in a Leaf-nin's tenure."

"I see..." Shiroi-san's lips purse into a terse frown. Very carefully, the girl shifts from her crouched position to sit, hands white-knuckled against the trunk.

The sight reminded Rin of a cat being stuck in a tree. A fear of heights…? Or maybe she's just not comfortable with staying too long up a tree?

"Ah, that's right. Because you're a native to Grass, you must not be used to something like this," the blonde says, giving a small, sympathetic smile.

"Not particularly," the albino confirms, jaw clenched. "Learning to tree-jump was…quite the process. Less surface area for your feet, compared to leaping across buildings.

That was very true. Those that weren't used to jumping across trees found the traveling method difficult because of the thick vegetation, smaller footholds, and flimsier surfaces—compared to, say, jumping across the dwelling of their village.

To a native from lands that primarily had flat surfaces mainly making up their environments, like Kusa…It would make sense that Shiroi-san faltered during tree-jumping, and was very cautious of the idea of setting camp up in the canopies. The most trees in Kusa were the areas near the borders; the land was aptly named for its large stretches of grass plains and rolling, small hills.

"Forgive me for the oversight, Shiroi-chan," Minato-sensei said sincerely. "We can camp on the ground, if it'd—"

"No!" Shiroi-san awkwardly cleared her throat, face flushed, avoiding everyone's gazes. "Ah, I mean…No. It is quite alright. I'll manage. Thank you for the offer."

After a few moments, the man turned his worried gaze from scrutinizing the red-eyed teen, to looking over at Rin and Kakashi. Rin stifled down a tired yawn that was bubbling in her throat.

"Considering how tired my students are…It would be probably safer if they fell asleep on solid ground, now that I consider it," the blonde said, voice somewhat dry.

Despite the fact that Rin actually kind of, sort of, fully agrees with Minato-sensei's assessment, she still gave him a look of affront. A quick glance revealed that Kakashi was giving a very tired, bleary glare at their teacher.

Kakashi also looked ready to slump over and fall out of the tree at any moment from bone-deep exhaustion. And, really, it would do them some good, if they made actual camp. Rin could **probably** heal a broken leg with the chakra she has, if her teammate or Shiroi-san managed to fall out of their trees during the night, but, well…Healing broken necks isn't exactly something she has experience in.

Broken necks sort of can't be healed. Unless the person is really, **really** lucky.

And knowing the utter chaos this mission has been so far, luck isn't exactly on Team Seven's side. So, to be frank… they shouldn't be taking any more chances.

"I…I vote we camp on the forest floor," the brunette chipped in awkwardly, forcing down the ingrained habit from the Academy to raise her hand.

"Kakashi? Your thoughts?" the blonde asked diplomatically, merely getting a squint-eyed glower and noncommittal grunt in response. "Hmmm. I suppose majority rules, then!" sensei chirped, clapping his hands and giving a close-eyed smile.

How the man was able to dredge up any vestiges of enthusiasm or chipperness despite the (very long) series of unfortunate events today, Rin won't ever understand.

Okay, maybe she kind of does, if she can stop being exhausted and pessimistic and emotionally drained. The sunshine personality is comforting and so very _Minato-sensei_ , but it's also ridiculously out of place right now.

Maybe Kakashi's grumpiness is spreading to her. Can grumpiness be considered a disease? And would it be infectious? What would even **quantify** it as being infectious? Would it be airborne, or only transfer through contact?

Rin shook her head. Wow, she must be **ridiculously** tired, if she's thinking half-lucid, rambling thoughts about grumpiness being a disease.

The Nohara carefully dropped to the forest floor from her previous perch. Already, Kakashi was setting up his bedroll, only managing to keep upright by heavily leaning his weight against a tree.

"I can get us dinner," Shiroi-san speaks up, cutting through the silence.

The masked Jonin staggered, fueled by the need to contribute his usual share of hunting and foraging. "No, I'll—"

"You going out is self-destructive and detrimental. You need **rest** , Kakashi-san," the cloaked girl retorts sharply.

"I can do it," Kakashi groused, through gritted teeth.

Rin gave a sigh at her teammate's bullheadedness. "Kakashi, please. Sit down."

"You can barely stand, Kakashi," Minato-sensei interjected softly, before the boy could obstinately start a debate. The silver-haired Jonin gave a huff, and seemed to wilt, slowly sliding down the tree trunk that supported him, plopping himself on the ground. "Thank you. Shiroi-chan, that's a kind offer we'd like to take you up on."

Shiroi-san gave a quick nod. "Of course. I'm more than happy to assist." She strode out of the clearing, before calling back to them, "I won't go far, or be gone long."

* * *

It's like Shiroi-san leaving trigged some form of unspoken, instinctual signal. Because once the girl presumably left hearing range, the members of Team Seven drifted together, like magnets being put through a magnetic pull.

Rin sat down to rest on the tree Kakashi was settled against, and Minato-sensei plunked himself down in front of the two teens.

It was a bit like an impromptu powwow, really. The only thing missing was Obito on her other side—

But Obito is gone. Gone and **dead**.

The space next to Rin—Obito's space—feels cold and empty without him there to fill it.

It's like the elephant in the room. Or, well, no. That analogy didn't particularly fit in this situation, now did it? Instead of there being something tangibly **here** , it was an **absence** of a person that was causing the off-kilter atmosphere.

The brunette barely forced herself from burying her face in her hands then and there, **frustrated** and **tired** and, and, and…

"Is she trustworthy?" Kakashi grunts. Rin gave a jolt, heart leaping up into her throat; for some ungodly reason, she'd thought—just for that split second—that he was speaking about **her**.

(But…But she was okay…Wasn't she?)

"From what I can tell," Minato-sensei starts slowly, rubbing at his chin. "Yes. There's no way to fully confirm it, of course. So I suppose we'll just have to wait and see, and hope she doesn't knife us as we sleep."

The man is oddly lighthearted and chipper when voicing the possibility. But there's a chilly undercurrent in his voice—as if he's already planned contingencies based on that probability, and is fully ready to utilize them to eliminate the threat, if Shiroi-san poses one.

And, really, Rin doesn't doubt that he will. His Killer Intent alone was able to incapacitate the red-eyed girl, after all. It shouldn't be much problem for him to… _dispose_ of Shiroi-san, if it came down to it.

"However, she's one of Jiraiya-sensei's contacts, and has been a large help so far…So that's already a good sign of her character, I'd like to think," the blonde man went on, idly ruffling his spiky hair.

"Eh? Is she really?" Rin asked, surprised, blinking her wide, brown eyes. This is the first she's heard of such a connection. The Toad Sage just…didn't seem the type, to deal with children.

"Since **when**?" Kakashi also wondered, his brow furrowed.

"Sensei was very vague on the details," their teacher admitted. "But what really convinced me of her connection to him came from her explosive tags back at the cave, actually. The design was a specialized one that he uses. Not to mention, the way she set them off wasn't exactly typical either, showing at least **some** form of instruction or base proficiency…"

A shiver goes down the medic-nin's spine. She remembers that—the way Shiroi-san managed to trigger that pillar of fire from so far away, by spiking her chakra so carefully.

"She's a very good sensor," Rin input, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "She could diagnose Kakashi's condition, without even needing a Diagnostic Jutsu."

"It probably makes her a sufficient tracker," the masked boy huffed out in a tone of voice that made is seem like admitting it was nearly painful for him.

"Yes, it makes her rather fitting for a guide," the man mused, idly tapping his knee. "She's a good addition to our squad, considering…"

Minato-sensei trailed off in his assessment, cringing. ' _She's a good addition to our squad, considering that Obito's dead_ ' is what he almost said. Rin **knows** he almost said it, because he's broadcasting his remorse and discomfort rather blatantly.

The air becomes heavy, dark, and stifling. The empty space besides Rin becomes tangibly icy, causing her body to tremble.

Obito…

He was alive, just a few hours ago. He was alive and well, brave and loud and bullheaded in his convictions…But now…

Rin feels her breath catch, choking her. She winds her arms around herself, biting her lip hard enough it feels like its going to split.

Besides her, Kakashi's body is tense. His head is ducked, his hands clenching hard enough to leave bloody crescents in his palms.

Looking over at Minato-sensei, feeling cold and lost and so, so, so broken, the girl catches sight of dulled blue eyes, like stormy seas. The man's lips are pulled so taught, they're bloodless, and the bones of his hands creak dangerously from the force of clenching them.

The realization hits her just then; **all** of them are affected by Obito's death. **All** of them have a fresh, gaping, Obito-shaped hole in their hearts. They express it in different ways, but in this quiet moment—where they're resting and their minds are allowed to wander down, down, down in a hopeless spiral—they're all feeling the sucker-punch of the realization seep into their bones.

They're a damned trifecta of negative emotions right now. And it's not helpful. It could get them all **killed**. ( _Like, like, like_ —)

When they get back to Konoha, they won't be able to hide from it. And then, they can go through the pain and cope with it like healthy, balanced, normal human beings. (But shinobi **aren't** normal, or healthy, or balanced, or even human beings, now are they? Not really.)

"W-we…We n-need a plan," Rin said, wobbly voice cutting through the depressing atmosphere.

"What is there to plan?" Kakashi asked dully, voice without any inflection. It would sound dismissive, if it didn't sound so _dead_. "We go to Kannabi Bridge. We complete the mission. We go back to Konoha."

"Kakashi," Minato-sensei sighed, sounding forlorn and aged ten years. "Rin's right. We need to think of the future, outside the mission."

The masked boy raised his knees to his chest, perching his chin on them. "That would get in the way of the mission," he murmured, sounding hopeless and lost.

"I…The funeral," the blonde started, licking his lips. "I've got experience with setting them up."

And isn't **that** a tragedy? Minato-sensei hasn't even had children, isn't even **thirty** , and he's already well-versed in setting up funerals. Because he's already been through various comrades dying, from the war.

It's not right. It's **really** not right. Minato-sensei is the eldest and their squad leader, yes, but he's still relatively young. Too young to sound so tired and resigned about this.

"I-I'll help with the flowers," the brunette sniffed. Besides her, Kakashi gave a small grunt to signify that he was willing to assist, as well.

"Alright," their teacher said softly, gently placing a hand on each of their shoulders and giving a comforting squeeze. "We'll get through this."

The silver-haired Jonin gave a quick, jerky nod, and the kunoichi bobbed her head.

For a few seconds, they were all a bit cracked and broken, but managing to help one another keep themselves whole. (And that's what your squad was for.)

…There was another issue, however, that niggled at the back of her mind. Something else that was important, that needed to be discussed before they kept going.

"There, um…There's s-something else," Rin started, after a few moments of silence. She looked wearily between her two teammates, heart thudding in staccato, hands fisted in the material of her white apron.

"Yes, Rin?" sensei asked, dropping his hands from their shoulders, brow furrowed in concern.

And if he kept on frowning and looking so, so…So **un** -Minato-sensei-like, then he'd get his face stuck in that way. Or develop premature wrinkles in his flawless skin. (The man's managed to get through his shinobi career without any scars on his pretty-boy face, so it would really be a shame if he started to develop too many wrinkles too quickly.)

"There's…Th-there's something I n-need the two of you to agree with," she went on, eying the two males nervously. "I… I've thought on it. Since…" Since Obito's body was exploded into thousands of little fleshy chunks, scorched into oblivion in a pillar of flames. "Since the issue with Obito, and Shiroi-san's actions…"

She saw the exact moment, when the realization began to dawn on the two of them. Their furrowed brows gave away to widened eyes, morphing back to hard gazes.

"I…We need to agree." Rin gave a gulp, trying to push the words past her throat. "If…If I'm ever caught again by the enemy—"

"Rin, you won't—" her teacher tried to sooth her. (But he couldn't do it; not this time. There was nothing that could sooth her soul, nothing that could keep her from speaking about this and getting them to **listen**.)

"We don't know that!" she snapped, watching as Kakashi's lone grey eye widened in shock, and Minato-sensei reeled back, as if physically struck by the biting words.

Rin couldn't keep looking at them, couldn't keep watching their reactions, so she dropped her gaze. "I w-want to be perfectly clear…If I-I'm ever caught again…" She let out a breath, a near sob, clutching at her knees in a white-knuckled grip, feeling herself start to fall apart at the seams. "I-I want my body to be **destroyed**. I **won't** become another prisoner, and I **won't** be tortured for information. Not…Not again."

' _Never again_ ,' a hard voice whispers in the corner of her mind. ' _Death would be kinder_.'

"Minato-sensei. Kakashi… **Please** ," she shuddered. Her eyes were misty, but hard like steel, as she looked at them. " **Promise** me. Promise you'll do it if it ever happens in the future, o-okay?"

Her voice broke, and her face became slick from tears. But she didn't back down. She stared the two males straight in their eyes, determined, her head held up, her back straight and shoulders squared.

Rin Nohara wasn't strong. But she **could** be. And right now, she was as firm and immovable as a stone statue.

" _You Leaf-nin have such strong convictions_ …" Shiroi-san had told her a few hours prior. And, really, it's true. A strong conviction is a part of the Will of Fire, something that blooms and roars and burns within every Leaf-nin.

Rin has the Will of Fire. She **is** fire. And if she wants to die with her honor intact instead of being a useless hostage once more, wants to do her duty for her village, then she will damn well make sure that it happens.

It would simply be much easier, if she had her squad by her side, to help her in this. (Because that's what squads were for…right?)

A large, warm hand enveloped hers, and Minato-sensei gave her a sad grin—more of a grimace, really. "If that's what you want…"

"It is," she stated resolutely.

Kakashi slowly uncurled one of his arms, and tapped the back of his knuckles against Rin's other hand. "If you'd do the same for me, if I am ever captured…Then I'll give you my word."

"Of course," the girl replied somberly, a broken smile ghosting on her lips. She grasped the boy's hand in hers.

His hands were cold as ice, and his fingers stiffened at the sudden contact. But after a few heartbeats, he squeezed his fingers over her hand, before forcefully disentangling them with a huff.

Minato-sensei leaned forwards, wrapping an arm around each teen, bringing his students into a hug. "I hope it never happens…But one never knows. Until then, however, I'll do my very best to protect the both of you."

Rin leans into the embrace, not caring if she gets tears and snot over her sensei's flak jacket. It's…She needed this. **Needs** this, just for a bit.

(A scathing part in the back of her mind wonders if maybe Minato-sensei will be able to protect them better, with one less student to split his attention towards. Or maybe he won't be able to do anything at all, since he couldn't save Obito.

She pushes that vindictiveness deep, deep down into her gut.)

It doesn't take long for Kakashi to squirm and fidget, as if the physical affection is burning him, or he's allergic to hugs and breaking out into hives. Sensei lets go all too soon because of this, sighing without any heat. Rin feels a nostalgic fondness, when Kakashi instantly scoots away and crosses his arms in front of his chest, trying to act cool and aloof.

This was…familiar. Familiarity, in an unfamiliar situation.

(It's like a slice of home and safety.)

* * *

The moment of team camaraderie comes too quickly to an end.

A branch breaks loudly, and the Leaf-nin turn to look at the cloak-wearing teen that's hovering awkwardly in the trees. She raises her foot slowly; obviously, she stepped on the branch on purpose, in order to alert them of her presence.

The red-eyed girl has a number of dead woodland creatures strung up on a wire that she carries in her left hand, an extra pouch wrapped on her belt. She's definitely brought enough for them to eat.

"Um…I'm back?" Shiroi-san says tentatively. The Grass native shakes the line of game for emphasis.

"Ah, yes. Right," Minato-sensei says, clearing his throat, and giving a self-deprecating smile. "Almost forgot about that. Thank you, Shiroi-chan."

Shiroi-san pads over to them, carefully laying down the game, and setting down a pouch. "I also brought herbs and roots from the forest." Her red gaze goes over the three Leaf-nin. "I hope I wasn't interrupting."

Rin blushed in embarrassment, quickly drying her eyes. "Oh, it was nothing much," the squad leader says peppily. "Just chatting."

Shiroi-san hums, not looking particularly convinced, but she drops the issue. She rifles through a pocket, producing a storage scroll, handing it over to Minato-sensei. "There's materials for a fire, in here."

"Much obliged," the man replies, flicking the scroll open with the ease of practice, unsealing the tinder. In what seemed like a flash, he makes a fire pit and arranges the materials into a small, low-smoke fire.

Rin idly went through the pouch the older girl set down. It held an assortment of edible berries, roots, nuts, and herbs native to Fire Country.

The Leaf kunoichi looked up, watching Shiroi-san skillfully help skin the animals she hunted, feeling renewed awe. She really knew her stuff. How'd she even manage to pick all of this up, when Grass wasn't known for its woodlands…?

"You sure you should be doing this?" the cloak-wearing teen asked Kakashi dryly, as the boy fumbled with a kunai, dragging a dead rabbit towards himself, to skin.

The boy merely gave a grunt. But Rin could see that he was slumped over, and blinking constantly, as if warding off his fatigue through his willpower alone. "I've done this dozens of times."

"That may be true— but have you done this while chakra-exhausted and with an injured eye, before?" Shiroi-san raises one of her pale eyebrows pointedly at him, giving a deadpanned look. "Working with pointy objects may not be the safest thing to do, in this state."

Kakashi growled. A literal **growl** , like one of his dogs. With jerky movements, he started to cut up the rabbit.

"Whoa there. The hell did the rabbit ever do to you?" the red-eyed girl mused, looking faintly concerned.

Kakashi gave a grunt, almost skewering his own hand. Rin sighed, feeling the growing need to rub her temples. This wasn't exactly the time for him to get this…obstinate.

Rin chanced a look over at Minato-sensei, who was frowning sadly at the boy, a knowing look in his eye… That's right. Sensei's dealt with Kakashi for longer, and through many more traumatic things.

"Here," the silver-haired ninja huffed, pushing over a pile of ready meat. Leaning back, he all but collapsed on the spot.

The rest of the squad wore frowns, and they went through the motions of cooking. They put squirrels on splits, and skewered strips of rabbit, digging the sticks into the ground to surround the fire.

Shiroi-san gathered the pile of innards, and began to idly plop rabbit eyes in her mouth, as they waited for the meat to cook itself to an edible state.

Even the half-conscious Kakashi turned to stare at the cloak-wearing teen in morbid fascination. The clearing was filled with the monotonous crackling of the fire, the chirping of bugs— and the rhythmic, wet, slurping and chewing sounds of Shiroi-san casually eating animal eyes like they were grapes.

It was…Well…It was sort of disgusting. And **really** unappetizing. It sort of makes her want to throw up, just a little. But Rin just _couldn't look away_.

The red-eyed teen's chewing slowed, surveying them, before she eventually gulped down the mush in her mouth and spoke. "…What?"

At the awkward silence, the girl shrugged, looking defensive. "Hey, they're good. Not exactly my favorite thing to eat, but… it's food."

At the continued stares, Shiroi-san diverted her attention to something else. She busied herself by taking a stick, skewering various little blood-covered, slimy, critter organs onto it, creating a macabre shish kabob. And then holding that over the low flames to cook as well.

"Why?" Kakashi rasped, squinting at the older teen.

"I'm just that hardcore," the red-eyed girl deadpanned in response, still avoiding their gazes. "Mainly, it's a case of waste not, want not. Primarily living off the land doesn't give you many options. Besides…The heart, liver, and tongue are actually relatively tasty."

Ah. Well…That makes sense. Shiroi-san seems to be a pragmatic person.

Also, Rin sometimes forgets that not everyone has the resources or customs that someone from a Hidden Village may have. Sure, she's had to hunt and forage during long missions, when their squad doesn't (or can't) pass through settlements. But there are people out there that must do these things to **survive**.

"My dog Summons like eating the hearts," the silver-haired Jonin said in a dry voice, as if offering some sort of placation.

"Kakashi-san… Are you calling me a bitch?" Shiroi-san asked, sounding mildly affronted. Minato-sensei—who was taking a drink from his canteen at that very moment—spluttered, choking on the water.

Sensei coughed, pounding his chest, the water no doubt having gone down the wrong way. "In a round-about way, using the literal definition, perhaps," Kakashi drawled back.

Rin couldn't help the gasp that left her mouth. But looking over at the Shiroi-san, the girl didn't look angry or offended at all. Rather, her red eyes were glimmering with mirth, and a slight smirk colored her mouth.

Also, sensei was spluttering and near choking, but he was laughing.

"What a way with words you have. Such a smooth operator. Much charm. Very wow," the older teen replied sarcastically, the smirk spreading wider on her pale face.

A giggle bubbled in Rin's chest, falling past her lips without her consent. It surprised her, actually. That she could find something **funny** , after everything that's happened…

Kakashi's glared, arms crossed over his chest, doing an impressive imitation of a toddler who's three seconds away from throwing a tantrum because he doesn't want to take his shots. Rin is covering her mouth, trying in vain to stifle her (semi-hysteric, loopy, tired) giggling. Minato-sensei is chuckling regularly, finally passed the coughing fit.

"Kakashi speaks very literally," the blonde said, giving the silver-haired boy an indulgent smile, passing him some of the cooked rabbit. Rin swiftly moves forwards, helping her teacher divide the food amongst them.

Except for the skewer with tiny, squishy hearts and livers. She very carefully avoids it, and the older girl indulges her squeamishness, picking it up with her own hands so the brunette didn't have to.

Rin passes the pouch of vegetation Shiroi-san collected around their campfire, so that everyone can eat some nuts and berries and get a more balanced meal. They don't exactly have plates, so they'll just make do with taking handfuls.

All of them lose decorum, ripping into the meat topped with wild herbs. Kakashi doesn't even bother to hide his face with his mask as he all but inhales the food, probably too tired to care at this point.

Rin can't help but pause in mid-bite and stare at the boy's bare face.

She…That is… **Well** …Uh…

Wow. Kakashi has a ridiculously pretty face. Prettier than many girls, even. Definitely ten times prettier than her **own** face.

It was just…The brunette always knew that Kakashi was probably good-looking, considering that his father—Sakumo Hatake, the White Fang of Konoha— was a handsome man. But actually seeing it and having it confirmed was making her feel rather…off-kilter.

Also, was that a piece of food near the corner of his mouth, or…? No. It's a beauty mark.

It really isn't fair that what could be considered a flaw makes his face look great. Even the new scar over his eye makes him seem rugged.

Rin resumes eating, noting sensei and Shiroi-san's amused looks. She tries very hard not to blush, and **maybe** manages not to. Maybe.

It doesn't take long for the four to devour their dinner. Kakashi was the first to finish, licking his lips (and oh my, did he have nice lips) and tugging his mask back up his face. The brunette quietly lamented the loss of Kakashi's unfairly attractive, usually covered face.

"How will we divide the watches?" the silver-haired Jonin asked, voice almost slurred from fatigue.

"I'll take watch," Minato-sensei said, giving his students a firm look. "Don't worry about it."

"I'll take second watch," Shiroi-san quickly offered, cutting in before Kakashi could say something.

"Third," Rin swiftly added. The boy glared at them, ready to object, despite looking just about ready to keel over. "Kakashi, you need your rest! Don't argue."

He grumbled under his breath, but nodded slowly. He struggled to his feet, swaying dangerously, but their teacher was suddenly **right** there, sweeping the boy off his feet and bodily carrying him in a bridal carry.

"Sensei—"

" **Rest** , Kakashi," the man said sternly, crouching and gently placing Kakashi on the ground next to his pack. With quick, well-practiced movements, Minato-sensei started to tuck the boy into the bedroll, despite Kakashi's growling and very tired swatting.

"I can do it myself," the masked ninja said, statement punctuated by a yawn.

"Get some sleep," the blonde said softly. Rin edged her way to camp out next to Kakashi. Her teammate merely gave a grunt and rolled over, verifying her presence with a quick squint.

Sensei walked back over to the fire, and by then, Kakashi was out like a light and Rin was arranging herself in a spot in reaching distance to her teammate. Swiftly afterwards, their leader put out the fire and cleared the debris.

Shiroi-san still sat vigilantly next to the fire pit, despite the lack of flames, eerily illuminated by the dappled moonlight, as if she was a phantom. The girl was sitting cross-legged in meditation, eyes closed, but mouth moving soundlessly and quickly. It seems like was still keeping vigilant through sensing.

Rin looked about the quiet camp, watching Minato-sensei ghosting across the clearing and climbing a tree. The man settled himself on a branch, hair turned a soft butterscotch yellow that peaked out slightly between the leaves.

The girl couldn't keep her eyes open any longer. With her teacher keeping watch in the trees, and her teammate next to her, she felt…safe. Even though the space next to her felt cold and empty—the space usually filled by Obito's warm body and excited whispers—without him there to let Rin curl into to ward away the chills.

Despite (—or maybe **because** of—) the events of the day, Rin fell asleep quickly.

Because of her bone-deep exhaustion, she blessedly had a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Rin woke up in the early morning, realizing three things.

One: Obito wasn't there, cuddling her as if she was a life-sized stuffed animal, like he always did when they had sleep-overs or long missions.

Two: No one woke her up for her watch shift.

Three: There was still a mission to accomplish, and Shiroi-san was with them.

…It's kind of stupid, but Rin feels the distinct need to cry, once the situation sinks in.

"Um…Rin-san?"

Shiroi-san is hovering next to the brunette, looking concerned and slightly panicked. Rin feels a small, wet trail down the side of her left cheek, and—oh. That's a tear. Shiroi-san must be concerned that she is starting to cry.

"H-Hello, Shiroi-san," Rin sniffs, giving a strained smile and quickly drying her cheek. "Sorry, did you say something?"

Red eyes pierce into her, but the older girl eventually nods. "Yes. We're packing up and leaving, and we'll eat breakfast on the road."

"Thank you for telling me," the brunette says automatically, busying herself by securing her bedroll and pack. It gives her a good excuse to avoid Shiroi-san's probing gaze, and hide the pink flush on her cheeks.

"…No problem."

* * *

Although it wasn't particularly healthy to eat energy bars for breakfast, since breakfast was the most important meal of the day, there were times that such sacrifices had to be made.

Usually, Minato-sensei was very good about getting his squad to eat proper meals—or, at least, rations, even if they were bland and met the bare requirements for 'food'—but they were on a bit of a crunch. The longer they took, the higher the risk of enemy involvement.

On the up side, Shiroi-san was certain that it wouldn't take much longer to get to Kannabi Bridge. Every hour or so, they would stop for a few moments, so the red-eyed girl could scan the area ahead with her chakra sense. She made them follow a straightforwards path, but sometimes diverted sharply or went at a curve, to avoid any trouble.

The transition was subtle, but eventually the trees started to thin, and the vegetation became lusher, the closer to Kusa's borders they neared. The grasses became taller, dotted with small wildflowers.

Twice, the squad had to stop completely and hide, to avoid a border patrol. But with Shiroi-san's sensor abilities, she managed to warn them well ahead of time, and she led them as soon as they were safe from being discovered, creating a surprisingly smooth journey.

By the time it was noon, the sun was in its zenith in the bright blue sky, and the four of them were crouched in the tree line, a hundred yards from their target.

"It's where I remembered it to be," the cloaked teen murmured, voice thin. The lines of her body were tense, trembling minutely when she let out a slow, shaky breath.

"Do you know anything about the structure, Shiroi-chan? Any weak points?" Minato-sensei asked.

The pale girl bit her lip, brow furrowed. After a few moments of thought, she nodded. "The caps—pillars of the bridge—were built in a way that held large, structural cubbyholes. The kids from my village…" Shiroi-san paused, her voice cracking. "Sometimes they would play on the bridge, and go climb up and down the caps."

"So, we hide the bombs inside these holes?" Kakashi pressed for clarification, after a lull of silence.

"You could put one on each side of the bridge, blowing up the ends, and the middle will drop. Or you could put the firepower together to blow out the middle," the red-eyed girl explained, rubbing at the back of her covered head. "Personally, the second option causes less reparation damages and still gets the objective done, which will be good for the Leaf's continued diplomacy with Grass."

"I believe that would be something very much needed, after this war is done and over with," the blonde admitted. "Second option it is. Are we clear to move out, Shiroi-chan?"

"No one in the vicinity. But we'll have to work quickly. Your headbands and flack jackets are big, blaring signs over your allegiance, so you can't get caught doing this," the albino responded with a huff.

Minato-sensei nodded resolutely. "Shiroi-chan, with me. Kakashi, Rin, you're back-up," the man ordered. "We go in and out as quickly as we can. Once the timers start, we get out of dodge, and put as much distance as possible between us and the bridge. Understood?"

"Hai!" the teens responded sharply, postures straight at attention.

The Yellow Flash gave the signal, and the squad burst out of the tree line with Shunshin.

Naturally, the blonde was the fastest of the group. However, Shiroi-san was easily running across the long grasses of the land surrounding Kannabi Bridge as if it was plain ground, and wasn't far behind their leader.

It didn't even take five minutes for the older two of the group to place the special bombs on the bridge, and rig them. The light-haired duo double-checked them, before calibrating the machinery, signaling to Rin and Kakashi.

The group high-tailed it out of there with chakra-augmented speed, taking to the trees at a running jump. Exactly two minutes later, and they all braced themselves on their branches as the planned explosion erupted.

The Nohara watched the mushroom of smoke and flames with wide eyes, a gust of wind whipping through the thin trees, shaking them to their roots. Minato-sensei carefully scaled the tree he was standing on, up to the highest point he could manage, and whistled at what he saw.

"That was…much bigger than I expected," he mused. "It definitely did the job, though. Almost the entire bridge went down."

"Mission accomplished," Kakashi intoned, seeming both relieved and grim. Rin let out a sigh, feeling a bit of the tension in her body uncoil and leave her.

That…That was true. All they needed to do was get back to Konoha, and report in, so this goddamn mission could **finally** be over.

Considering that Minato-sensei had the Hiraishin, they could save themselves the long trip back. They could be done in time for lunch.

The four of them were quiet, as they watched the dust cloud settle down, the wind abating. It was…a riveting sight. Despite the fact that they should really leave, there was just **something** about watching the consequences of their mission that had them rooted on the spot.

"I believe this is where we part ways," the red-eyed girl eventually spoke, breaking silence, looking between the three Leaf-nin.

Rin felt her heart sink. She'd almost forgotten…Almost forgotten that Shiroi wasn't a Leaf-nin like they were. Almost forgotten that this was simply a one-time situation, a joining of forces born from convenience and pressing dangers and the loss of a squad member.

There was still **so** much Rin wanted to talk to the older girl about, still so many things she didn't **know** about her. What was Shiroi's favorite technique? Who taught her how to be strong? What was her favorite food? Her hobbies? Her dreams?

Minato-sensei leapt down from his perch, to be level with the teens. His full attention went to the Kusa native. "I'd just like to say that my squad appreciates all you've done for us, Shiroi-chan."

Said girl's eyes widened, a look of utter surprise and bewilderment on her face. "I did not do much, Minato-san—"

The man shook his head, shaggy blonde locks swaying with the motion. "You did more than you ever had to. You didn't know us, and you put your life on the line regardless. That's something that deserves a thanks, at the very least."

"Really, Shiroi-san…Thank you," Rin said softly, giving the older girl a low bow, fists clenched in the material of her apron. She felt like she was pouring her heart out. And in a roundabout way, maybe she was, because she was trying to be as genuine and heartfelt as she could.

They would be parting ways before Rin could ever tell Shiroi that **she** gave her strength and confidence through her acknowledgement, empowering her. Rin will forever appreciate it; will forever remember how the realization _clicked_ within her. And there are too many words that Rin wants to use to describe how **amazing** she thinks Shiroi is, despite so little time of actually knowing one another. That she'll do her best, be the strongest she can be, so she can feel like they're equals, even if the red-eyed girl already sees them as such.

Maybe…Maybe they'll meet again. After the war is done and over with. Maybe then, they'll cross paths.

"I would like to fight you, in the future. So, survive until then," Kakashi said brusquely, with his usual amount of stiffness and (lack of) social grace. The cloak-wearing girl gave a blank blink, but nodded, and the masked boy gave a firm nod back, as if sealing the deal.

"Take care, Shiroi-chan. I'll make sure to tell sensei hi, for you," Minato-sensei said, with a wink and a quick, charming grin. The man reached out and took hold of his two students, ready to transport them back to Konoha.

The last sight Rin had was of a gently smiling Shiroi, before there was a quick flash of light. Then, they were surrounded by Hashirama trees, a familiar red wall looming in the distance.

( _They were back in Konoha, but did she actually want to_ _ **be**_ _back?_ )


	15. Raidō: Masks

This chapter was created because, well…Jiraiya and Shiroi were bound to run into ANBU or other known Leaf-nin at **some** point in their traveling shenanigans. And I just really wanted to explore how being in ANBU would be like. So most of this chapter is actually just ANBU stuff, and only the last fifth has Shiroi in it. Whoops.

I'm going to bump up the rating, considering the somewhat dubious stuff that happens in this chapter. It's nothing really explicit, but there's references to brothels, human trafficking, abuse, assassinations, blatant sexism, The Gays, pedophilia if you squint... Actually, that's quite a bit of things. This is an ANBU mission; it deserves the M rating.

Also, my hand slipped and there's suddenly a gay pairing in here. Whoopsidaisy. (And no one was surprised.)

 _More chapter notes and replies to reviews,_ for those that care, _are at the bottom of the chapter._

* * *

Raidō: Masks

* * *

The thing about Team Ro is that they didn't exactly make up a…mentally stable bunch. Three members were from the Fourth's Platoon Guard, full of guilt and self-loathing for being unable to do their given jobs and being helpless during the Kyuubi Attack. One member had been experimented on by Orochimaru, and had just recently popped up from the shadowy depths of the village to be stuck into an ANBU assassination squad at an eerily young age.

Essentially, the four young men in this squad were fucked up, and had issues up the whazoo. They took some of the hardest, most suicidal missions, led by a dogged Kakashi, and somehow managed to get out of them **alive**.

Of course, as the eldest of the team, Raidō felt responsible for his squad mates, despite not being captain. Having a nice, calm, elder comrade to turn to and rely on was always a godsend to have—hell, that's why Genin got paired with a Jonin-sensei— so he… tried to be that mentor figure.

But, thing is, he had his own slew of problems and inner demons to deal with—which happens to a guy, when they've specialized in assassination since Chunin. Because of this baggage, Raidō wasn't even the strong, emotionally stable pillar of the sad lot.

That honor somehow went to Genma. Raidō only thinks 'somehow', because it's still mildly embarrassing that he essentially flipped his shit the time he got his scar, and Genma healed him like it was no problem.

(But really, Raidō would honestly like to see someone else going through taking a B-ranked jutsu to the face and **not** end up cursing, delirious, and half-crying from the pain. It resulted in his ceramic ANBU mask gouging out the left side of his face. And that shit **hurts**.)

As the designated support member of Team Ro, Genma was the one that they went to for field treatments. Didn't matter if Kakashi gutted himself for the fifth goddamned time that month, or if one of them got a mild concussion. Genma was always there to patch them up, with a friendly pat on the back and a wisecrack to lighten the mood (despite the unprofessionalism of such an action).

Genma Shiranui was just a very stable guy in temperament. And considering that he was the odd man out—the one of their squad who specialized in iryo-ninjutsu and poisons—this somehow translated to him not having the same amount of trauma that assassinating people usually had on the rest of them.

Probably because Genma was always there to save their (sometimes suicidal) asses, and keep them alive to fight another day. He mainly gets to worry over them, helping and healing, and does a bit less of the stabby-killing-thing.

And after enough time of going to the same guy to treat your life-threatening injuries, with them covering your back, well…You start considering them in a high regard. You start going to them for help in things outside of just physical injuries, even if they're not the commanding officer.

(Which is what helped cement the fact that Raidō saw him more than just a squad mate and friend; but that's a story for another day.)

Neither the captain, the eldest member, or the fresh-faced newcomer of Team Ro were the strongest and most mentally healthy. Out of all odds, it ended up being the least likely member; the medic.

So, naturally, it was Genma that routinely checked up to see how the three of them were holding up—both physically and emotionally. And it was Genma that always left the door of his apartment (figuratively) open, in case they ever needed to talk.

Which is how he, Raidō Namiashi, somehow ended up in Genma's bed, with the other half of the squad awkwardly hovering in the room, in full ANBU gear and ready to leave for a new mission.

ANBU were encouraged to use the ANBU barracks to rest and quasi-live in, but sometimes a ninja just needed to sleep in their apartment, or at least keep up a **semblance** of normalcy and an I'm-totally-not-super-secret-ANBU cover. Living in the barracks, however, often cut down on time it took to get ready and move out, as well as walking into ridiculously awkward situations. (Or, at least, more awkward than comparing inappropriately-placed battle scars in the communal showers.)

At least Raidō still had his pants on, despite the fact that said pants were not in the most presentable of states. Genma…wasn't exactly as lucky.

There's only so much boxer briefs can cover, after all.

The squad mates were frozen—one pair sitting up from their previously inappropriate position on the small bed, the other pair still half-crouched from entering through the window—silently staring at the other. Raidō felt distinctly mortified, his face heating up.

(The embarrassment didn't come from being seen with the senbon-wielding man like this—really, there was no shame in it, and Genma was a genuinely amazing person— but rather, the fact that the timing was just so…well. **God awful** is a term that comes to mind.)

Kakashi slowly raises his arm, covering the eyeholes of Tenzō's mask. "New mission. Five minutes," the silver-haired teen manages to choke out, taking the younger boy's arm and _Shunshin_ -ing the both of them out of the room.

* * *

The two half-naked men staid in silence for another few precious seconds, before the senbon-wielder decided to crack a joke.

"Oh, poor kids. Now I'll have to sit 'em down and give 'em The Talk." Raidō spluttered out a laugh, while his companion gave a lopsided half-smirk.

"I'm mostly worried about Tenzō…Kid is barely hitting puberty," the scarred man coughed. "And, uh…"

"Probably a bit sheltered. Most likely hasn't seen The Gays in person," Genma drawled, arching his back to work out the kinks, pulling the scarred man's attention to his pecs. "Eh, we'll just deal with it later…That fine with you?"

"I..." Raidō blinked, halfway through dressing himself properly, hands stilling slightly before working quickly once more. "Yes, that's good. Fine. More than fine." He clicked his jaw shut, before he could babble more and make himself sound like a total idiot.

"We'll talk properly after the mission about…this," the longer-haired brunette said, waving languidly at the general empty space between them. "Don't worry 'bout it, okay…? Oh, and—do you want to borrow my spare uniform, or do you need to get back to your place? I mean, it's not like there's much of a height or weight difference between us, but still…"

For about two heartbeats, his mind halted at the concept of borrowing the other man's clothing, before realizing that Genma sort of had a point. Raidō was only two or three centimeters taller than the other man, with a few more pounds of muscle mass. (Not **weight** or **fat**. Muscle mass. ANBU had muscle mass.)

"Sure. It'll be quicker," he agreed. The senbon-wielder rifled under his bed, and swiftly began tossing pieces of the uniform back at the scarred man, the articles arching over his shoulder.

Raidō easily plucked the items from the air—Genma tossed them rather lazily, all things considering—and began to fit out in the armor. "I'll need to pick up my mask and sword, though."

"Eh, we've got time," the other man shrugged, whirling the assigned, black cloak around himself, attaching it with the clasp. "And it's on the way to the wall, anyways. We should be fine."

The two slipped out the bedroom window, and the apartment rentee paused, re-setting the traps on the window, before the duo bounded off across the other apartment buildings. Raidō tugged the hood of his cloak down to cover most of his face, and layered on a genjutsu to make it appear like he had his ANBU mask on; just as a quick fix to his current mask-less state.

They leapt across roofs, going under passes and taking a snaking path through the buildings. The two cloaked figures stuck to the shadows, silent and inconspicuous. In record time, they arrived on the roof of Raidō's apartment, sliding down the wall and halting at the third window from the right, two floors from the top. In a few heartbeats, he disabled his security measures, and the two landed silently in his bedroom in a crouch, as quick as a wink.

Usually, Raidō tried to get inside his apartment through the civilian way, using the miraculous invention known as the door. But as an ANBU, you had to get everywhere in the quickest, most discreet way possible. An elite agent blatantly unlocking and walking through the front door of an apartment would blow his cover quicker than he could say "dismissed".

So the window it is. Plus, his closet wasn't far from his bedroom window. The depths of his controlled chaos of a closet held his spare ANBU uniform and mission supplies.

Considering that the closet was the **obvious** place to store things like mission gear and armor, it's surprising how often people would overlook it. But he personally liked being organized, so most things in his apartment were stored in their proper places. (Unlike people like Genma; he had loose senbon stored in his utensils drawer and poisons in the cupboards next to the dry goods.)

Strapping his sword on his hip, the weapons holsters on his thighs, and his readied emergency-mission pack on his back, he double-checked how full his supplies were, before nodding at his companion. Raidō placed his bone-white porcelain mask on his face, securing it in place.

* * *

Falcon gave the ' _ready'_ sign to Lizard. Lizard ghosted out of the room, heading for the roof of the apartment complex. Falcon slipped out of the window, sticking to the underside of it, re-setting his traps. A light application of genjutsu, and both the traps and his bulky figure were invisible to the world.

A Shunshin later, and the two Black Ops were taking their usual route down to the stretch of Konoha's wall that Kakashi always made them leave from. Along the way, the two crossed paths with a squad coming back fresh from a mission, and they each exchanged quick greetings through passing hand signals, none of them missing stride to their destinations.

Lizard and Falcon landed and clung to the small stretch of wall cast in shadow, five minutes and forty seven seconds after Hound-taichou called for their appearance. The silver-haired ANBU gave a grunt. "You're late."

"Barely," Genma scoffed. Raidō could pretty much see the other man rolling his eyes behind his green-and-black-streaked mask. "By, like, forty seconds."

"Forty seven, actually," Puma murmured.

"Forgive us for the lateness," Falcon said diplomatically. "I had to get to my apartment to gear up."

Hound silently scrutinized the two elder members, mask tilting slightly from side to side as he switched his gaze between targets. After a few quiet moments, he finally spoke. "We're wasting time."

Without any more preamble, the captain signaled the squad to head out, before taking point in the formation. Instantly, Lizard and Puma followed him, with Falcon bringing up the rear.

It was actually somewhat surprising that Hound didn't press the issue. Kakashi was a stickler for the rules and punctuality.

Maybe he just didn't want to deal with the can of worms of the whole 'finding two squad mates in the same bed while off-duty' issue… God knows that romance and emotions weren't the kid's forte. And he probably doesn't know the correct way or social conventions needed in order to face such an event.

And thus, ignoring the issue is the best way to deal with it. Which is something that Kakashi has been doing for many large, glaring issues so far, and is probably well versed in the motions by now.

At least it won't end up being detrimental to their squad or mission. Shunting all one's issues aside for a mission is something that ANBU are quite capable with; one could even say that it's something required in order to be a Black Ops agent.

Distraction, hesitation, mistrust, guilt, honor, trauma—these can end with the death of a squad member. Maybe even more than one. Could lead to failure of the mission. All outcomes they couldn't afford; that Konoha couldn't afford.

So Raidō takes all his feelings—all the butterflies that flutter in his stomach when he watches Genma's backside—and puts them in a box. He stuffs the memories of this evening as well into the box, wiping his mind temporarily of the event. Then, he places the box down, down, down, into the shadows of his heart, along with the other (much less pleasant) feelings and memories he holds that could lead to compromised actions.

Between one breath and another, Raidō is his mask.

Agent Falcon watches the backs of Hound, Lizard, and Puma. He doesn't think about the time he spends off-duty, because he is ANBU, and ANBU aren't anything else but their masks. Falcon is on a mission. Falcon must take rear in the formation, in order to protect his squad.

* * *

After three hours of full-speed travel by trees, the captain finally stopped, motioning for the others to halt as well. The silver-haired ninja took a scroll from one of his pouches, unrolling it.

"There have been multiple reports of women going missing from the Land of Fire as of recently—predominantly near the borders of Hot Water and Tea. It is theorized that the sex and human-trafficking businesses are getting out of hand, in these areas.

Our mission is to visit Yaseru Yanagi's brothel, Willow Palace, in the Land of Tea. Yanagi is known for being big in both trafficking businesses, so we must check and cross-reference the workers, to see if he has taken any women from Fire. If there is more than a dozen, then we are to assassinate Yanagi and free the women. If there are less, then we simply induct a covert rescue operation of the victims.

Yanagi has guards, old dropouts from Hot Water. One B-rank and two C-rank threats. No known specializations. We'll have to be on guard, just in case; he could hire patrons for extra protection."

Hound takes out sheets of paper that were with the mission scroll, and passes them out. "These are the reports and dossiers of the missing women. Memorize them. We will leave again in ten."

Falcon takes some of the papers, riffling through them. A few of the entries were just lists of names with ages, a small amount with basic characteristics or descriptions. A few had proper missing persons reports that were filed in. Others had crude drawings to go with names.

There were at least twenty five women in the reports. And this only held women; how many young men and boys have went missing, as well? Sex and human traffickers weren't very picky when it came to gender.

This mission was a bit…well, on the heavy side. Falcon was there to assassinate Yanagi, if needed. Lizard would heal any physical injuries the victims had. Hound had a Sharingan eye, so he was good for memorizing the lists and faces, but he was more geared towards heavy combat missions, even if he was still rather skilled in covert operations.

It would make more sense to have a scouting or infiltration squad undergo this. Hell, even a seduction specialist would be better for this mission than three combat specialists and a medic.

Maybe those squads were out…? Team San was an information gathering and code-breaking squad, but they just barely got back from a mission. Most of the rookies were either training or patrolling Konoha.

Falcon tried to think over which squads were still at Headquarters, cross-referencing their skill sets with what was needed for this mission.

There…weren't many left at HQ, that could take this assignment. Some solo members that were in rotation on the rosters, but full squads that weren't rookies that were geared towards this sort of operation were…nonexistent.

Falcon bit down the need to rub at his temples. He knew that the Kyuubi Attack devastated Konoha's forces, and still had a harsh impact on the forces even three years later, but this…This was rather ridiculous, even for ANBU standards.

Sure, ANBU were the elite—the best of the best of Konoha's forces, who were crafted to be able to undergo just about any situation—but they still had specializations and missions they were geared towards. Team Ro was a dual combat-assassination squad. They were **not** a rescue unit, nor an infiltration unit.

It was a blatant case of stretching their forces thin, to keep up a strong front. If one wanted to be pessimistic. A more optimistic view was that the Hokage trusted Team Ro's abilities enough to assign them this mission, despite the work being very different from their norm.

…Falcon side-eyed Puma's small form. Maybe this mission also had a purpose to acclimate the newer squad member to different missions. Although, sending a boy who hasn't hit puberty yet to a mission at a brothel just…didn't seem the most logical of choices. Or healthy.

Falcon mentally shook his head. That was more Raidō talking, than anything else.

It wouldn't help the mission. They've already accepted it. They were already out in the field.

"You know," Lizard began lightly, drawling voice cutting through the silence surrounding the quartet. "I'm always one for remembering a pretty face, but twenty babes at once seems a bit **much** to memorize."

The overall exasperation in Hound's figure made it seem like he was seriously considering smacking Lizard across the back of the head.

"When we get to the border, I'll allow for another chance to memorize the dossiers," their captain said, voice clipped. The young man snatched the sheets from Lizard's hands with a bit more force than needed, subtly showing how peeved he was.

Falcon could very well imagine Genma's cheeky smirk, under the porcelain. "Aye aye, captain."

Hound testily gathered the other pages, putting them back with the mission scroll. "Move out."

* * *

The Land of Fire wasn't the largest of the Elemental Countries—that honor went to the Land of Earth—but it was still quite the mass in of itself.

The squad moved at a sprint for the journey, stopping to take night shift to squirrel away a bit of shut-eye in (relatively) safe, known territory. They just about reached the Fire-Tea border in the early hours of the next morning.

Crossing borders undetected is a bit of an art form that most ANBU have to perfect at some point in their tenure. Since they were covert operatives that worked as the shadows of their forces, they couldn't leave any traces when they inevitably visit other countries.

Thankfully, the Land of Tea wasn't much for security. It was mainly a tourist stop, and Konoha was the one that kept up their border checks.

They just slipped right into Tea, staying in the shadowy canopies, breaking out into their previous speed after a bit of cautiously stealthy maneuvering. Once they were an hour into Tea, Hound stopped the squad to give them the promised second chance at memorizing the lists of missing persons.

The young man didn't say a word when the three of them settled down on sturdy branches, flipping through pages while shoveling down ration bars.

There was really no telling when they would ever have their next meal, in the coming hours. And stopping for ten minutes was technically a break, with how hard Hound-taichou rode their asses every mission.

Plus, Falcon is quite sure that the silver-haired ninja was **also** scarfing down dry, tasteless rations in the small lull. So, really, they couldn't be blamed for taking the opportunity.

Ten minutes passed all too quickly. "Time's up."

Falcon, Lizard, and Puma rose as one, standing at attention towards their captain. The silver-haired ninja held out his hand, palm up, and the three handed back the papers they'd been studying.

A spark of fire chakra later, and the evidence was ashes to the wind.

Hound bounded off, the others falling into place, moving together like a well-oiled machine.

* * *

Land of Tea was, thankfully, a minor country. Only an hour and a half at their speed, and they were already nearing the settlement by the sea that was their target.

The small town that held Willow Palace was like one continuous Red Light District, full of shadows and grime. Every way one looked there was a seedy bar, love hotel, dingy shop, ramshackle restaurant, and dubious teahouse. There was a lack of actual brothels, except for one: The Willow Palace.

The Willow Palace held a rather fitting name. It was the largest building— a colossal thing of multiple floors that was built on the tallest cliff, made of stone. It was like a collection of brothels, or some form of mega-brothel. Red lanterns and bright swathes of clothe draped the windows and railings. There was a literal drawbridge that led to the grand, opulently carved double-doors out front, and a worryingly steady stream of people traversing its well-paved road.

It was easy enough to stick to the shadows and traverse the town. But the path leading to the brothel was open ground, which was a bit of a risk.

Hound-taichou made them pause. ' _Genjutsu and Shunshin, climb, observe_ ' he gave his list of orders.

' _Sensor?_ ' Falcon signed back questioningly. If there was a chakra sensor in there—someone perhaps hired by Yanagi—they'd know of the squad's movements.

This gave the leader pause. The dog-masked ninja tilted his head, considering, before coming to a conclusion. ' _Undercover, infiltration, information-gathering. Later use information while observe_.'

' _No genjutsu?_ ' Puma signed wearily.

' _Puma, stay. Standby and observe_ ' Hound signed quickly. Raidō couldn't help but smile behind his mask; their captain was trying to protect their youngest member's…virtue.

' _Captain, how undercover?_ ' Lizard asked. If Hound wasn't wearing his ANBU mask, he'd probably be squinting at the senbon user. For clarification, Lizard pointed at his head, before jabbing his finger at the young man's shock of gravity-defying, silver hair.

Hound seemed to huff, body language mildly indignant. ' _I've got it_ '.

' _Me and Falcon, undercover. Complies with mission and infiltration,_ ' Lizard signed loftily, slightly puffing his chest out. Falcon would bet his mission pay that Genma was smirking widely under his mask.

' _Lizard wants_ ' Falcon started, before clenching his fist and pumping it diagonally. Genma quickly swatted him on the shoulder, but didn't refute. Hound made a small choking sound. Puma tried to make himself smaller, as if wanting to fuse with the wall he was leaning against, no doubt mildly mortified.

' _No. Lizard recently acquired with Falcon_ ,' Hound signed back jerkily.

Falcon gaped at the blatant reference and insinuation that their **captain** , of all people, just made. At least, in ANBU sign language. Which was somewhat hard to converse with or create smack-talk, yet somehow, the meaning translated perfectly fine.

' _Negative. No'_ —and here, Genma gave the jerking-off motion—' _Just contact and fire_.'

Raidō felt his face burn. Tenzō actually buried his masked face in his hands. There was a heavily awkward silence, where Kakashi just sort of stared blankly at Genma.

' _Not mission. Later.'_ Hound turned to Falcon. ' _Your scar? How undercover? Distinctive. Bingo Book._ '

Well…Their captain had a bit of a point. The scar that took up most of the left side of his face would make him distinctive…But so would most of Kakashi's characteristics. Genma wasn't as well-known as either of them, and was a good enough actor, so he could definitely pass suspicion.

The only other one that could do so without question was Tenzō, who was unknown to all those outside the higher ups of Konoha's forces. He didn't have a reputation yet. But he was also fourteen, and would stick out rather blatantly if he tried to be a patron at the brothel.

And there was no way in **hell** that any of them would allow the boy to pretend to be a worker. So that was an option that was most definitely **not** open for use.

' _Bandage?_ ' Lizard signed. The brunette riffled through his pack, producing large, square bandages, as well as a band aid for the bridge of Raidō's nose.

 _'…Affirmative. Falcon, Lizard, undercover infiltration_ ,' the silver-haired ninja decided. ' _Me and Puma, standby, observe. Clear?_ '

The three nodded, and squad touched ground, crouching by an abandoned lean-to in the alley they were hovering in.

Lizard and Falcon went under the steel structure and swiftly began to strip out of their ANBU uniform. Once a pile was gathered, the two of them sealed them in spare storage scrolls.

They couldn't do much, in terms of the clothing they had. They had their usual open-toed sandals, shinobi pants, wraps, and fishnet. Hound told them to wait, going off, and coming back a minute later with two simple yukata shirts and pairs of wooden sandals that he got from dubious means. (Aka: stealing.)

Now fitted out with semi-proper civilian clothing, Genma and Raidō hid weapons on themselves. Genma, of course, had a much easier time with it. He had more experience with infiltration operations, for one. And secondly, his main weapon were senbon, and those needles were smaller to hide and keep on one's person.

Reluctantly, the two sealed up the rest of their weapons, handing the scroll over to Hound for safekeeping. Genma tied back his hair, and then started to apply the bandages on Raidō's face. Then, the younger man licked the entirety of his palm, and forcefully passed it through Raidō's spiky hair, managing to flatten it down.

Done, they gave each other a once-over, to check the disguises for inconsistencies. Without their shinobi gear, they ended up looking like rather normal young men, all things told. As if they were just off-duty and going out to have a good time.

"Lookin' fine, friend of mine," Genma said in a low voice, grinning and punching his companion's shoulder. The ponytail-wearing male leaned against the grimy alley wall, turning his attention to the two uniformed ANBU, a cheeky smirk and eyebrow raised. "We good?"

Hound and Puma nodded. ' _Me and Puma on standby. Call for help in emergency. Regroup later,_ ' their captain signed.

Puma threw the two the slang sign for good luck, and they nodded, signing back ' _Affirmative'_. The two mask-wearing ninja seemed to melt into the shadows, hiding from view, and the disguised pair casually made their way out of the alley.

* * *

Genma's body language was wholly relaxed, hands shoved in his pockets, as he strode lazily along the grimy road. He pretty much just adopted his usual casual walk, but dragged his feet more. Raidō felt a bit more awkward, hands hanging empty and listlessly by his sides, conscious of making his footsteps **not** ghost across the ground.

No one on the roads gave them a second glance. And if they did, it was mostly to give a curious glance at the bandages across Raidō's face. The duo made their way along the paved road towards Willow Palace, making their destination rather obvious. Just two more guys going off for a fun with some whores; nothing to look at here.

"Y'know, if you keep walking all stiff like that, people are gonna think you've got some stick shoved up your ass, Rai," Genma spoke, side-eyeing the other man. "You gotta relax more."

Those were very true points. Didn't mean he had to appreciate the hidden reprimand, though.

He had half a mind to reply something witty about not having something stuck up his ass **yet** , but ultimately decided that making gay innuendos wasn't going to be very productive for this type of mission. After all, he was posing as a very typical, straight civilian male, who wanted to have sex with whores. There were no men in the missing persons lists that he would have to be looking for.

"Sorry. Being dragged into a brothel isn't something I thought I would have to be doing today," Raidō replied dryly. "And yet, here I am."

"Oh come on, man—I'm not **dragging** you there," Genma replied, hand on his chest, as if wounded by his very words. "You just never seem to want to go with me any **other** times I go to have a good time."

"Genshiken, life isn't just about having sex."

"Then what's the **point**?" the ponytail-wearing male huffed, and then wrinkled his nose. "Also, ew. Never say that name again."

"Genshiken, it's your **name**."

"It's a **shitty** name, is what it is. Can't believe dad named me that. It's too ugly for a sexy beast like me."

"Is that what the _oiran_ women call you? Because I'm afraid that they're paid to tell you those types of things. To make you feel better."

The longer-haired man made an indignant sound, shoving his slightly taller companion, who was snickering. "You're a fuckin' jackass, y'know that?"

"And you're just figuring that out **now**?"

The banter came naturally between the two, as well as the friendly ribbing. They were simply using their friendship and some of their personality traits as a basis, to make their roles more convincing.

There was just Rai— the responsible and honest young man who had his face injured— and Genshiken— the laidback sex maniac who hated his name.

* * *

The two friends fit right in, with the other customers that walked down the road, crossing the bridge to reach the large double-doors. They stepped into the lavish entryway, which seemed to double as a sort of waiting room-front desk hybrid.

There were a few painted women scattered across the room, chatting up men, batting their eyelashes or serving sake or smoking from dainty tobacco pipes.

As his companion gave an appreciate whistle at the room at large, Raidō had a passing hope that Hound and Puma managed to get into good positions, before smothering it. Rai followed Genshiken, who strode through the room as if he knew what he was doing.

The two left the brightly lit entrance, entering a hallway with branching rooms that held dimmer lights that hung from the ceiling. For a 'classy', up-scale brothel, the conditions were a bit more cleanly than the norm, but there was still grime and dirt hidden in the shadowy corners that the mood-setting lights didn't show. There was a thick stench of sex, stale alcohol, and salty sweat in the air— a staple in just about any well-used whorehouse.

Some women were leaning against doorways, while others were sitting down in clusters, waiting to be chosen for their services. Many plastered on smiles or seductive looks at their entrance, fake and plastic, a façade covering bone-deep tiredness and broken dreams. Makeup hid the shadows under their eyes, their scars, their imperfections.

Some of the younger girls subtly shied away, all but hiding behind their seniors. It was heart wrenching, how young some of them looked, despite their clothing and hairdos and make-up to age them up a bit. He could count at least five girls that could be no more older than eleven, if that, all petite stature and knobbly knees and chubby cheeks. Nowhere even near puberty. Some men were into that.

It all reminded him of animals at a petting zoo. That, or pigs to the slaughter.

A woman leaned out, kimono sliding off one shoulder, grasping at his sleeve. Rai instantly jerked his arm away from her clawed grasp without thinking, face flushing in embarrassment for his action. He ducked his head, excusing himself with a murmur, and quickened his pace, sticking by his friend's side more closely.

Genshiken shot an amused look his way, and Rai heard the tittering of a small group of women at his actions. He clasped his hands behind his back to keep them from fidgeting, back straightening, head tilted down.

"That reaction was a bit much, man," the ponytail-wearing male drawled, an undertone of warning in his friendly voice.

"I'm not as used to this as you are," Rai retorted, covertly looking around himself, but not meeting any woman's eye. He's quite sure that his partner was cataloging the workers as well, and most likely noticed a familiar woman that fit the description of one of the reports.

The two entered another hallway, where light spilled across rice paper walls and opened doors. Inside some of these other rooms, men were sitting around, sprawled across cushions or couches, guffawing and talking boisterously amongst each other. Some where playing cards, showing off weapons, or paying lavish attention to their attendees, groping them and trailing wet lips across warm skin.

Women in bright clothing flocked these men like birds, entertaining them with items like tea sets, alcohol, tobacco, instruments, or their own bodies. They had various modes of dress—yukatas, full kimonos, little dresses that barely covered themselves, mini skirts with tight tops, or just in lingerie.

There was the occasional boy or young man that acted as entertainers as well. They were dolled up much less than their female counterparts, in much simpler yukata and pants. But the particularly attractive or pretty-faced ones seemed to get better quality clothes and held cleaner faces. And that's not even counting any males that were dressed as women to fulfill inclinations of certain customers…

"The two of you look lost."

A frowning man wearing a black eye patch over his right eye had rounded the corner of a fork in the hallway. Rai instantly noticed the bandages around his chest that peeked from under his plain yukata, and the sword on his hip; the man was either a samurai or a mercenary.

Genshiken chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, this is sort of the first time we've come here. This place is **way** bigger than most brothels, y'know?"

The man nodded. "It's called Willow Palace for a reason. If you don't have experience going here, it's easy to stumble around."

As the man neared, Rai noted the crest on a band around his upper arm; it held a red symbol for tea inside a white square with red edges. A member of the Wagarashi, a rather new, rising influence in the Land of Tea that has quickly become of the its strongest clans.

"You looking for anything in particular?" the middle-aged man asked gruffly. "Yanagi-dono usually has a good, diverse stock. You could find just about any type here."

"I like my girls dark, y'know? The hottest ones always have dark hair," Genshiken instantly supplied, giving a wide grin, before slinging an arm over Rai's shoulder.

The Wagarashi man surveyed the ponytail-wearing young man. "We've got a few Cloud girls on the third floor, by the back. If they aren't of your tastes, there's a stock of Fire women just down the hall and to the right." He turned his attention to Rai. "And you?"

"Um," Rai started, wracking his head for something. "Pale girls are prettier, in my opinion. Long hair...maybe blondes?" Considering that Genshiken was covering the dark hair, it made logical sense to go for women who had lighter hair, even if the ratio shown in the reports was smaller for lighter-haired women.

The Wagarashi cocked his visible eyebrow. "Kid, you don't exactly look the type for just a quick fuck."

Rai coughed into his first, face flushing. "Yes, well…"

His friend leaned forwards, talking behind his hand in a fake whisper. "This is the first time I've managed to get Rai to come with me."

"In Genshiken speak, that means he dragged me here," the bandaged man supplied, exasperated. "I…honestly wouldn't mind, if I don't get laid."

The man made a contemplative noise. "Then…I think I know what you're looking for. Just follow me."

The two friends exchanged a glance, with an unspoken agreement of searching their given recommendations, before meeting up later. Then the bandaged young man subsequently padded over to the man with the eye patch.

* * *

Rai followed the Wagarashi man through various hallways, passing countless rooms and women along the way. He recognized maybe two more women; one from just a description, and another from a proper missions person report.

At one point, a group of drunken Wagarashi members called out to the man with the eye patch, calling him Kozue. (Rai quite rightfully assumed this was the man's name.) Kozue simply waved away the drunken clan members with the excuse that he was 'going off to find a proper girl'.

"Do you fight?" the man asked suddenly, as the duo walked through a winding path through the halls.

Rai's step faltered for a split second, before he kept walking. "…Why do you ask that?"

"Your bandages. The face isn't a place people usually get injured, unless in a fight," the man replied gruffly, tapping pointedly at his black eye patch. "There's also your callused and nicked hands. Either a field worker or you've handled a blade."

"I…" he trailed off, biting his lip, flustered. "Well. I picked up using an old tanto for self-defense. But considering how strong ninja are, that…Didn't exactly end up a good idea." He chuckled weakly, raising a hand to scratch at his face, before aborting the motion and instead awkwardly pointing at the bandages on his face.

"Tch. Ninja've got no honor," Kozue said. "Least, I haven't personally met one yet who's got it. Ridiculously strong, though, I agree."

The two fell into a comfortable silence as they ascended various staircases, going up and up, until they hit the top floor of Willow Palace. Kozue flashed a golden medallion at a pair of bored-looking bouncers, and the two were allowed inside.

"This is the top floor, where Yanagi-dono resides. It's also where the rarest stock are," the man explained, leading Rai through a large, opulent room full of vases and paintings and fine curtains.

"Why are you taking me here?" Rai asked, baffled.

The other man paused slightly, his one eye surveying the bandage-wearing man. "Hm…No real reason. You just remind me of myself." Without another word, Kozue kept walking.

In the second room, there were women lounging on couches in finer clothing, with unique hair and eye colors. Green, blue, pink, gold, burgundy, purple; it was like a rainbow, or walking into a flower shop.

A woman with shoulder-length, fire-red hair and dark eyes caught Rai's attention. The vibrancy of the woman's hair reminds him of Kushina's mane of locks.

Raidō's steps faltered at the sight, before he forced himself to keep going. This woman wasn't part of the mission; there's no room for nostalgia.

* * *

Rai quickly caught up to his guide, who went through more doorways, until they entered a room to the sound of an odd song. The voice was throaty and low, and the singer had a haunting tone that slowly carried through the room.

 _"I've seen the world, lit it up,_

 _As my stage now,_

 _Channeling angels in,_

 _The new age now…"_

A white-haired young woman in a fine kimono was sitting at the _seiza_ position on a stuffed cushion that was placed out-of-the-way, singing. Her long hair was held half up, with a pair of red hair sticks and thin clips. Her pale face looked wholly disinterested, flat, matching the lulling notes.

The woman's blue eyes swiveled to stare at the two newcomers the instant they entered. The blue was an unnatural, bright shade, and her gaze was …unnerving.

(It takes him a few moments to place why the eyes just didn't seem **right** ; the color seemed utterly fake. They were bluer than even Minato Namikaze's eyes.)

The rest of the room had a harem of exotic-looking women with various pale shades of hair, who were entertaining a small group of men. One of which had short-cropped hair, cleft chin, and jutting cheekbones, who wore countless golden chains and rings: Yaseru Yanagi himself.

To Yanagi's right was a man in a green and white kimono, with a mustache, and a wart over his left eyebrow; Kyuuroku Wagarashi, head of the Wagarashi Clan.

To Yanagi's left was a man with ear-length graying hair, with thick eyebrows and a small square mustache. The elder man wore a cup-like hat on his head, and a rich, red kimono. It was…the Minister of the Tea Daimyo?

What were invariably the three most corrupt leaders of Tea were sitting together, in this very room. Lounging around, planning things, while casually molesting and abusing kidnapped women.

Raidō's right hand twitched towards his thigh, before he forced it to still.

The opportunity was almost too good to pass up…almost.

From what he cataloged, the three men had about ten guards between them. At least half of those were ninja. And that didn't account for any guards that could be hiding in the shadows, watching and waiting for something to happen.

Unless there was evidence of Yanagi kidnapping more than a dozen Fire citizens, then there was no need for killing him or his fellow corrupt compatriots. It wasn't part of the mission. He had to remember that.

"Kozue!" Kyuuroku called out, waving a glass of sake at the man with the eye patch. "So you've decided to finally join me. Who's that you have with you?"

"Hello, Boss," the samurai(?) bowed. "The boy with me is Rai. I believe he would make a good addition He showed interest in women with light hair, so I decided to take him with me."

Addition…? Rai's heart gave a jolt. He hoped it wasn't addition, as in, an addition to the current workers.

"You would bring a simple chump here to partake in the finest of stocks that Yanagi-dono has procured?" the minister sneered. "After how hard it is to gain such a diverse amount of rare beauties? This boy would simply sully them."

"Ey, it's fine, it's fine," Yanagi drawled, golden teeth flashing as he spoke. "I'm a generous guy, and I've got plenty of bitches. I just don't make it habit, is all, 'cuz that don't make me business, if I did it too often."

"You are certainly a generous man, Yanagi-dono," the Wagarashi head said, giving a bark of laughter. "Kozue's a good judge of character and loyal, but rarely joins in on taking advantage of your hospitality. If he's brought a new recruit up here, then let him enjoy himself."

"I…Thank you, sirs, for the hospitality," Rai said after a few moments, bowing to the three affluent men. Showing how decidedly uncomfortable he was, he awkwardly shuffled to an empty seat situated next to the singing woman.

Except, the white-haired young woman stopped singing.

"Yanagi-dono," she started, voice throaty yet strong. "I am tiring. It's been an hour. I'd like to switch out with another performer."

The woman casually raised a long sleeve to cover her mouth after she spoke, looking over at the kingpin with a cold, collected look. It was as chilly as ice, emphasized by the bright blue of her eyes.

"So soon, Anko-chan?" Yanagi laughed, a grating sound to the ears. Raidō couldn't help but send a side-eyed look at the pale woman with the familiar name. She was…very much different than one Anko Mitarashi that he knew.

" **Yes**. My throat is killing me. And sitting in the same position for so long has not done any wonders for my blood circulation," the woman replied snarkily with a mild glare, in complete contrast to her refined image.

"You **dare** speak like that to a man of higher standing…?!" the Minister sneered, looking at the woman as if she was a particularly vile rat, before turning to the man bedecked in gold. "How could you allow a **woman** to do so, Yanagi-dono? You should have her under control!"

"Eh," the man replied, lazily waving a hand. "Anko-chan ain't a bitch I own. Plus, her attitude's what makes her interesting."

"A whore still has no place to disrespect her betters."

" **Excuse** me…?" Anko-san's voiced, equal parts disbelieving and furious, voice as cutting as a blade. "I am no **whore** , Minster. I am a **singer**. I don't stoop myself to vile acts, like the women that Yanagi-dono has in his chambers."

"She really doesn't," Kyuuroku Wagarashi said, snickering into his cup. "Made that mistake when I first saw her in here. The girl doesn't even give out winks. She's only here to sing."

"If I were a whore—which is what I am most certainly **not** —then I would at least be a **classy** whore," Anko-san sniffed imperiously, before covering the lower part of her face with her sleeve and carefully rising from her previous seiza position, slightly wobbly. She was easily one of the tallest women he's ever known.

"You—Rai-san, was it?" she asked suddenly, turning to look at him. Rai blinked, taken aback, before nodding. "Lend me your arm," she demanded. "My legs have all but fallen asleep."

Shooting a quick, incredulous look to the cluster of men, Rai complied. The young woman attached to his outstretched arm in an iron grip that belied her steel hidden by silks.

"Ah. Looks like she's turned ya into her new gopher," Yanagi smirked, clucking his tongue and shaking his head forlornly. "She seems to have that habit, from what I seen of her so far. Best to just go along with it; a pretty girl clinging to ya shouldn't be the worst thing, eh?"

"She put Kozue through that too. Right, my man?" the Wagarashi clan head laughed, smacking the eye-patch-wearing man's arm, causing the stern man to twitch in irritation. "Heh. Too bad. You'll have to shake her off, before you can enjoy one of the other women."

"She's quite spoiled, for a simple singer," the Minister sneered in contempt. "I have never met a woman with such a disregard for propriety in my life."

"I'm **still** here, you know," the white-haired woman deadpanned, irately waving her opposite sleeve for emphasis. The fine silken material flapped around like a flag.

"Yes, yes. Run along now," the hat-wearing man said contemptuously, making a shoo-ing motion at her in a patronizing way. "Boy," he said, addressing Rai with a holier-than-thou attitude befitting a daimyo of one of the Five Great Nations, rather than just a minister of a minor country. "Take her to the next room."

"Er," Rai started awkwardly, nervously noting the fiery glare Anko-san was shooting the Tea daimyo's minister. "Yes. Of course. If I may, Anko-san?"

The woman nodded curtly, thanking him, before muttering lowly into her sleeve negative things about the Minister's character and parentage, including something along the lines of a flying monkey gremlin and an 'asshat'. (Rai had to bite down a laugh; the singer was rather creative in her muttered insults.) She took small, tentative steps, as he helped guide her out of the room.

"Thanks for the good singin', Anko, babe!" Yanagi called out happily to her back.

"No amount of good singing should excuse her for her rude, uncouth behavior," the minister scoffed, not bothering to lower his voice to even remotely hide the ire of his contempt.

"Can't exactly turn her away, though. She's got good backing," Yanagi replied lazily, as Rai opened the door and helped Anko-san through. "Hell, she was escorted here by Jiraiya of the Sannin! He's one of my best customers, see—"

The door clicked close behind them, managing to effectively cut off the interesting turn of conversation. Raidō couldn't help but pause just outside the door, from the name of such a famous Konoha-nin popping up at such a random time in conversation.

However, the sound was muffled quite well by the door. The room most likely had some sort of soundproofing.

There was also the issue of Anko-san tugging at his arm quite strongly, effectively grabbing his attention. She even managed to drag him forwards a few steps of her own strength.

"Lingering outside doors while people make plans of dubious morals just makes you seem suspicious," the woman drawled. "Let's go."

* * *

Anko-san essentially started to lead him through the room, using him as some sort of escort and support hybrid. The lounging workers turned their attention to her, greeting her warmly and smiling. The genuine respect in their eyes for the woman took Rai aback.

"Anko-san. Do you need something?" a young worker bustled forwards, moving to the white-haired woman's other side. The boy was only the second male worker Rai's seen in the rooms, on this top floor, not including the bouncers at the main staircase. From the way he was dressed, with a towel draped over an arm, the youth did some form of maintenance or janitorial work.

"Ah, yes. If you could find a quiet room for me to rest in…That would be lovely," the singer replied, giving the young teen a small, kind smile. The action softened the previously cold, sharp features of her face; it helped make her seem more approachable, a distinct contrast to her prickly personality.

The boy went off, and Rai dutifully followed. They went through the large rooms that he'd previously walked through. The grandiose room held the harems of women that was expected, but their collective gazes zoning in on Anko-san—and by proxy as her escort, **him** —was a bit… eerie.

Raidō let his thoughts trail off towards the mystery that this place held, his body automatically going through the simple motions of following the guide.

So not only was the daimyo's minister in cahoots with the head of a large sex and human trafficking ring, one of Tea's clans was in on it as well. The Wagarashi were newer than the Wasabi and Akagi, but rose quickly to prominence since the end of the war. All things told, three years wasn't very long. For a new clan to have a status of strength the likes of two established clans of a country so swiftly raised warning flags; and for a good reason, it seems.

Does the Tea Daimyo even know about this…? Most likely about the prostitution industry being so blatant in Tea. But if the Minister is coming behind his back to do shady trafficking and kidnapping business, the man probably doesn't know about the full situation that Yaseru Yanagi's created.

That's all not even taking into account the fact that Jiraiya of the Sannin is getting mixed up in all of this. He's Konoha's spymaster, and a lot of his contacts are from the seedier parts of civilization. Raidō knew that much, from being on the Fourth's Platoon Guard. But to drag in some singer into this mess…?

What the hell was that man even planning?

And then there was Anko-san. Other than her too-blue eyes and connection to Jiraiya, something about her was…off.

Rai was drawn from his reverie by the sight of the woman with blazing red hair, that he had seen earlier. The woman held a cup in her hands, and passed it off to Anko-san.

"For your throat, dear," she said kindly. Up close, her hair was even more vibrant, and bags were barely visible under her eyes. The material of her yukata sleeves slid down slightly, showing what eerily seemed to be bite scars littered across her arms. The sight made his blood boil.

"Thank you, Kaoru-san," the younger woman replied, drinking what seemed to be cooled honey tea from the cup.

"It's the least I can do, 'baru," Kaoru-san said with a smile, shaking her head. She took the cup, once Anko-san had finished. "Good luck." She then gave a low bow to Rai. "Sir. It is good to meet you."

"I. Um. Thank you," Rai replied, repaying the bow with a small dip, unable to do much else with the young woman still at his elbow.

Feeling distinctly out of the loop on something, his paranoid ninja senses tingling, Raidō kept following the young worker with Anko-san attached to his elbow. They walked parallel to the wall to an unobtrusive door, going through various small rooms and hallways. No doubt, they were the passageways of the women's quarters, from the cramped spaces. (Or, at least, cramped compared to the main rooms.)

Raidō memorized the twists and turns they took, making an inner map in his mind for future reference. He's not entirely sure where they're going, but it feels like it's going to be a very private, unobtrusive place.

He has a distinctly bad feeling about this.

* * *

The boy opens a door, gesturing for the duo to pass inside. "As you requested, Anko-san."

From his peripherals, the bandage-wearing young man catalogued the woman's expression. He… knew that type of look from her. Quite well, actually.

She was surveying the room instantly, taking it all in. The exits, the potential enemies, the items in the room that could be used as weapons. A scrutinizing, automatic thing; an action from those who trained themselves to have it.

"Thank you. It's perfect," she replied, giving a slight smile and pat on the shoulder to the boy.

The worker gave a quick smile back, before scurrying off, down the way they came from. In a few moments, the boy was already gone from sight.

"Rai-san…Can you please help lead me over, to sit down?" Anko-san asks politely, her strong grip still on his arm. It almost felt like talons biting into his sleeve.

"Of course," he replied calmly. Anko-san reached out, closing the door behind them with a decisive-sounding click. Deciding that he didn't want to make any ill connotations, or give her the upper hand in the situation, he led her to the small couch that was pushed against the wall, instead of the bed.

She was walking just fine. She didn't **need** him to help guide her. It was all just for show, but it was something he hadn't honestly paid much attention to. Just a niggling at the back of his head because it was so inconsequential, and she hadn't actually been acting at the start. Just enough truth, in order to pass off the wrongness and suspicion of the lie.

And the way she moved, as well, showed that she was no civilian beauty. She had a grace, a fluidity of her movements, that spoke of battle experience. Her steps were well placed, barely making a sound, despite her legs supposedly being asleep.

These unconscious things—these tells—are hard to work out of someone. No matter the skill or amount of infiltration experience, one simply cannot train out reflexes forged from years of training. (Unless someone was a sleeper agent; but even then, that wasn't a guarantee.) These were things that were built up, cultivated, until they became as natural and automatic as breathing.

This woman was **not** a pretty singer that she tried to present herself as being. She was some sort of undercover agent—a kunoichi on a mission.

She was dangerous.

Raidō decided that the warning bells ringing in his mind were nearing the level of sirens of how _wrong wrong wrong_ this situation was, and he should probably extract himself while he could.

Except Anko-san didn't let go of his arm, and seemed quick to pick up on his intentions. "Please, will you sit with me, Rai-san? Just for a chat."

"Ah…Sure," he replied, plastering on a fake smile. He tentatively sat in the space next to her on the couch, all too aware of their proximity, and the steel weapons he hid on his person. The thought of the latter made him feel calmer, more in control. Grounded.

Anko-san could go many routes, with this interaction. It all just depended on what she wanted from him.

She could try to seduce him; which wouldn't work, considering his sexual preferences. She could try to poison him. But due to the lack of any liquids or food to slip said poison in, it'd have to be a contact poison, or something from the mouth. So that option was unlikely.

Or she could be hiding weapons in her kimono, and will try and gut him. Sure, he has muscle mass on her, but she's almost his exact height and has the home field advantage. There's also the issue of him wanting to keep his cover; using chakra, weapons, or killing a woman would most definitely blow said cover.

So, he'll just have to wait, and strike for a knock-out at the most opportune moment.

His thoughts went to a screeching halt, when she next opened her mouth.

"You're with Kakashi."

* * *

Chapter notes:

[Ages: Shiroi is 19. Kakashi is 17, Genma is 20, Raidō is 22, Tenzō is 14/15.] Timeline-wise, this is not long after Tenzō gets saved from Root and is put in the normal ANBU forces, under Kakashi.

Anbu code names: Lizard is Genma, Falcon is Raidō, Tenzō is Puma, Kakashi is Captain/Hound.

The Land of Tea is an actual country, from the anime. The Wagarashi Clan is one of it's clans, and it's the dirty, corrupt one. Kyuuroku is its head, and has a character page on the wiki. Kozue doesn't, but he's the frowning eye-patch guy who's always seen behind Kyuuroku.

The Minister of the Tea Daimyo also has a character page on the wiki, and he's also super corrupt. (Which makes sense, with that little Hitler mustache he has going on.) He's literally just known as "Evil Minister of the Tea Daimyo".

Yaseru Yanagi's name translates to "Slim Willow". That's why his super-brothel is called "Willow Palace". He's not a canon character (because there's an oddly lacking amount of sex and human trafficking villains in the Naruto-verse. Go figure). But I loosely based Yanagi on Eminem's 'Slim Shady' persona. It's just that 'Shady Palace' seemed like too much of a literal term to name his mega-brothel, and I liked the alliteration with his first and last name.

Also, Genma's code-name (Genshiken) comes from the anime and manga by the same name. Because making shitty references is something I pretty much live for.

Bonus: Guess who the red-haired woman is.

* * *

Reply to _Guest_ on Chapter 14: Well, who knows if Obito actually lives? Just as a reminder, there's players like Madara or Zetsu that could have still done something. Blowing up Obito could create ripples in the plot and story that we don't know about or can predict.

Reply to _Dude_ on Chapters 8 and 9: Kids in the Narutoverse are ridiculously cute, before things like the world crashing down around them and changing them for the worse. Muku and Ryuzetsu are just two such examples, from the Naruto films. Also, it makes perfect sense to think that Shiroi is male, with how they dress and act. Glad you found the reveal, with Mui being unsettled/surprised, amusing.

Reply to _Alice_ on Chapter 14: Merci? (That's one of the few French words I actually know, without using Google Translate.)


	16. Raidō: Masks (Part 2)

*squints at the last update's date, and sweats nervously* Well. Here we are.

Things started to drift off of my original plans when a new Hellhound appeared. And then Jiraiya began talking, which of course, usually gets things to go into wild directions. The tone of this update is more on the lighthearted/funny side because of multiple factors, despite the mission and setting.

Also, I'd like to thank everyone who's supported this story, from the bottom of my heart. Despite any difficulties that life throws at me, all of you are what keep me writing.

* * *

Raido: Masks (Part 2)

* * *

Raidō froze. The moment seemed to stretch out.

 _"You're with Kakashi."_

His heartbeat thundered, as dozens of scenarios vied for attention in his head. She **knew**. She knew that he had a mission with Kakashi—but _they were supposed to be ANBU_ —so how did she…

His hand moved towards one of the hidden weapons in his sleeve—

"I'm with Jiraiya," the white-haired young woman went on quickly, scooting away from him and leaving her hands opened by her sides. The shinobi way to show peace. "I know Kakashi—I sense some of his chakra on you, and can feel him hiding outside the building. That's how I know."

Raidō forced himself to still. Stabbing first and asking questions later would just make this situation even more complicated and messy.

" _Calm down, Raidō…If she's with Jiraiya, she's clean_ ," he thinks.

His throat still felt oddly dry, his heartbeat thudding so loudly, it resonated in his ears. But…He was going to listen to what she had to say.

He was about to ask her to verify her identity—because she still felt oddly **familiar** , in a way he couldn't put a finger on— but Anko-san beat him to it. "I travel with Jiraiya, and I believe I have a Bingo Book entry," she said, slowly bringing up a finger and sticking it into an eye. Red replaced blue, as she removed the contact. "I'm Shiroi. You may have heard of me…?"

Raidō felt the line of his shoulders relax. Pieces finally came together in his mind.

Shiroi. The name **does** ring a bell. And now that he has a name to connect with the face, Raidō sees that she is, in fact, the young woman who's been said to travel with Jiraiya of the Sannin.

It was a bit like a slap to the head. And rather obvious, now that he thought of it.

"What are you **doing** here?" he asks, voice coming out in an incredulous hiss.

Shiroi-san gave a put-upon sigh, carefully tilting her head back to return the colored contact into her red eye. "Sometimes, I wonder that too…Hm…It's a bit of a long story, but I suppose I can give you the short version."

"Some of our contacts blipped out from the radar. Disappeared. We tracked down the trail for a while, which eventually led here," she explained, slinging her arm over the couch and idly tapping her fingers on the material, placing some form of privacy seal there. "I ended up being the perfect person to come in here undercover to find out what's been happening, you know, with my…What was it? 'Womanly wiles'."

Shiroi-san used air-quotes, rolling her eyes and snorting inelegantly. "Jiraiya-sama's words, not mine, mind you. With his backing, and my singing, I managed to convince those needed about the validity of my role of a singer. Jiraiya-sama's still around here, going from various women to find his contacts and sniff out more trouble."

…That definitely sounds like something Jiraiya would do.

"How long have the two of you been here?" he asked, feeling curious.

"A few days. Maybe four? Five?" the young woman replied, cocking her head to the side as she seemed to think it over. "And your squad's barely been here two or so hours."

"That's…correct," he replied eventually. "Two of us—"

"Infiltrated Willow Palace as customers," she finished, an amused lilt to her mouth at his surprised blink. "Sensor. I felt you split up." She gave a hum. "Actually, I think that friend of yours has met up with Jiraiya-sama already. How about that…."

Well then. Gaining information from Jiraiya-sama would most definitely be helpful, for the mission.

"Have you found what you were looking for, yet?" Shiroi-san asks. "For the mission that you're on, or whatever."

"Classified," Raidō replied automatically. At the woman's deadpan look, he gave her a polite little smile. "That's part of the regulations."

"Right," she said through pursed lips, letting out a long breath through her nose. "Well, I believe that us joining forces would be beneficial, regardless if you're allowed to give me information or not. I'm fairly sure our goals run parallel to one another."

"Is that so?" he mused. In all actuality, it was a good idea overall. Shiroi-san had already infiltrated this place, and had a veritable trove of information. Jiraiya was the spymaster of Konoha.

Yes, overall, things would go by much quicker if they cooperated.

"That would be acceptable," he nodded. The white-haired woman leaned back, looking pleased.

"Right, so…I've already managed to copy some of Yanagi's documents, recorded some shady dealings of his, talked to a number of the girls here, and scoped out just how far the corruption went in some of their men," she ticked off each point on her fingers.

"You did all this…in five days?" he asked, squinting incredulously at Shiroi-san.

"Jiraiya-sama gave me a time limit of a week, since staying any longer would cause undue suspicion," the pale woman shrugged nonchalantly. "And say what you will about the man, but his teachings get results."

Raidō had no doubts about that. For all his eccentric habits, Jiraiya was a legendary ninja, after all.

"I think you're selling yourself a bit short. Managing to do all that in five days is impressive," he notes, getting up from the couch and stretching, testing out the readiness of his muscles.

"Oh, I know. I just don't brag about it, usually," the white-haired woman said, with a ghost of a smirk. "You'd also be surprised with how much prime information you can glean from whores gossiping, and the overall carelessness of clients. I barely had to try, when getting into Yanagi's office."

The woman gracefully stood, taking the privacy seal off from behind the couch. "So, are you ready to act like my escort once more, mister…?"

At her pointed look and arched eyebrow, he blinked, realizing she wanted a name.

It should be fine to give his name, shouldn't it…? It's not like he's specifying that he's ANBU, or revealing his mask. Just giving a name for a name, in order to help identify himself to an ally.

"Raidō Namiashi." He gestured to the bandages to his face. "These hide the scars that make me recognizable from my Bingo Book entry."

The woman tilted her head, the free strands of hair framing her face moving along with the gesture. She stared at his face intensely, squinting slightly. "Ah…Yes, I think I remember you, now. Sometimes, I need to jog my memory."

"No worries," he replied easily. It was actually a bit flattering that she knew of him at all. His entry in the books wasn't as impressive as others he knew.

(Like Kakashi, who's held a full-page entry in the books since he made Jonin. He himself only had a section amounting to a fifth of a page, if that.)

"Well, I'm glad to be working with you, Raidō-san," Shiroi-san said after a long moment, extending her hand. The man looked down at the slender appendage, eyes quickly going back up to her face.

"You're supposed to take my hand and execute a firm handshake," she drawled dryly, with a quick roll of her eyes. "Stop being such a paranoid ninja."

"That's not possible. A paranoid ninja is an oxymoron," he replied readily, but still took her hand to shake. Her hands were much rougher than they looked, full of nicks and calluses. She also held a surprisingly strong grip.

"We should get going, before they think we're up to something," she said, going over to the door without preamble. "Rumors start from less."

* * *

After leaving the room, Shiroi-san paused a few paces away, pulling out a small object from her collar, amongst the various folds of her layered kimono.

When she blew into it, Raidō realized that it was a dog whistle. He recognized it from the times Kakashi needed to round up his Summons.

A few moments passed, before there came the soft clicking of nails against the polished wooden floors, echoing throughout the silent halls.

No doubt, Shiroi-san had just summoned one of her Hellhounds.

There was very little information about the Hellhound Summons available— but what little there was, it created a fierce reputation. Menacing beasts that came from the fiery pits of Hell, with pitch-black fur and glowing eyes, that were able to breath fire…Beings that one would only see within their nightmares…

There was so little information on these Hellhounds, some rumors say, because not very many live after seeing them, dragged down into the bowels of Hell itself. The only reason Konoha knew anything at all about them was because of Jiraiya sending back information on his newest protégé's Summoning Contract.

Raidō waited with baited breath, heart thudding in a staccato within his chest. He stretched his senses, acutely aware of the beast's footfalls getting louder, the clicking sharper. A large, looming shadow ghosted across the walls, as the Hellhound neared…

A tiny, black-coated dog with large, beady eyes and upright ears rounded the corner.

The man instantly let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, at the…underwhelming sight.

The Hellhound appeared to be a surprisingly normal dog, not at all like some being from Hell. It was more fit for a little noble girl's pet, all sleek fur and big eyes, small and harmless. There were no indications of it even being a Summons, except for the unique white collar it wore, that appeared to be made of thin bird bones corded together.

" _Epimetheus_ ," Shiroi-san greeted her Summons, crouching and picking it up expertly in her arms. The Hellhound could probably balance itself in her cupped hands, it was that small. "Meet Raidō Namiashi. He'll be working with us under the code-name 'Rai'."

The dog swiveled its deer-like head, its comically large ears twitching. " _Arf_ …?" it yipped, staring straight at Raidō. " _Ar-arf, Ya-Arf_!"

"I think he says, 'hello, human'," she explained, amused.

The man blinked. Tentatively, he gave a small wave at the Hellhound. "Hello… _Epemithiiosu_?" he murmured, trying and failing to pronounce the very odd name. The dog grinned, tongue lolling out, at the acknowledgement.

"Now that the introductions are over with… Epemithiiosu, have you found out anything new?" the woman questioned, looking down at the dog that seemed quite comfortable, cushioned against her bosom.

The dog answered through indecipherable yips. Shiroi-san rolled her eyes. "Use the human-speak I've taught you, please," she deadpanned, shifting a hand to lightly flick at one of its ears.

The puppy gave a small growl, and began to gnaw on the offending hand. Shiroi-san didn't even flinch at the action. Overall, she looked unimpressed, and just a touch resigned.

"Well, at least your disguise is up to snuff," the woman sighed, rolling her fake-blue eyes. "You can give your report to one of the others later."

Shiroi-san led the way, through the maze of hallways of the workers' quarters. She kept the pup balance in her arms, occasionally bouncing it as if it was a fussy human baby. Her gaze was fond and amused, whenever she looked down at the small dog, who seemed to have the habit of chewing playfully on her hand.

"Little guy's gonna be my infiltration specialist, once I train him up a bit more," she told Raidō, scratching the pup behind its large ears. "Aren't you, Epemithiiosu?" she cooed.

Shiroi-san honestly didn't seem the type that would devolve into baby talk, but…Well…Apparently, puppies were her weakness. She all but melted with the Hellhound in her arms.

(Maybe this was just a byproduct of caring for and raising animals. Kakashi had a similar soft spot for his Dog Summons, despite how hard he drove them, even if he rarely showed it. And the Inuzukas generally became rather maternal and protective, when first given their nin-ken to raise.)

"So, the women…" he started, after a few moments of awkwardly watching Shiroi-san coddle her Summon. "I suppose you've gotten in their good books, then?"

"Yeah. A majority of them are total dolls, you know," she replied simply, with no clarification.

Before he could ask for more information, the pale woman shot him a hard look. "We're back."

Raidō took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, readying himself to play his part again.

* * *

Rai stepped forwards, opening the door for Anko-san. "After you," he said politely, with a wave of his arm.

"Thank you, Rai-san," the singer replied pompously. Once she stepped foot into the large sitting room, she was flocked by a group of colorful women, who babbled at her.

"Oh, the little pup had run off—" "We thought he got lost—" "We're sorry!" "Are you okay, Anko-san?" "Ei-chan just loves to go off, and—"

"Ladies, ladies," the singer drawled, waving them off, causing them to quiet down. "It's fine. I found Ei-chan, safe and sound."

The women cooed over the puppy, and Anko-san gently handed the tiny dog over to them. Rai found the entire debacle to be amusing, all things told. Many men would dream of being in the puppy's place, surrounded by beautiful women and being doted on.

"I'm sure you'll all take care of him well, until I get back," the white-haired woman told them warmly, giving a wave and attaching herself to Rai's elbow. "Rai-san is going to escort me to see Jiraiya-sama."

"I am?" he muttered to her. In response, Anko-san discreetly stepped on his foot, as she made herself stumble.

Of course, Rai pretended she didn't do so purposefully, and she pretended to be sorry and flustered in her 'clumsiness'. There was a suspicious amount of muffled giggling that wafted through the room, after they went through the motions of their act. From his peripherals, Rai noted that they held quite the invested audience.

Women were odd and terrifying creatures. **Especially** when they got in packs, and giggled amongst each other.

(This was probably one of the reasons he was gay. Women were just…really hard to comprehend.)

As they left the room, the red-haired woman looked as if she was trying not to laugh at the pair of them. From the knowing twinkle in her eyes, the redhead knew full well that they were simply acting. And she also no doubt knew that they were more than just a regular man and singer.

That woman was definitely much smarter than she looked, and only made the sense of déjàvu strengthen in his mind. Maybe she was related to Ku…

No. Rai didn't know any other red-haired women. He had to remember the mission, and his role.

* * *

It was surprisingly easy to leave the top floor.

The bouncers at the main doors seemed ready to stop them, before Anko-san shot the men a sweet smile full of bright, even teeth. As if remembering how important she was, the two beefy men paused, before bowing and allowing them through.

Rai and Anko-san descended the staircase, the singer pressed firmly against his side, leaving behind the oddly flustered bouncers. The power of a woman's smile was astounding, really. It was a deadly weapon in of itself.

Considering that he had no clue where Jiraiya was, Rai simply followed the white-haired woman's lead. Through the different floors and confusing layout of the super-brothel, he kept an eye out for the women from the reports, as well as his partner.

All the way down on the second floor, they weaved through a myriad of passages, until they hit a room nestled off in a corner of the building. Shiroi-san produced a slip of paper, hidden within one of her sleeves. She crouched down and placed it on the bottom-corner of the closed, wooden door.

The ink pulsed, the seal glowing blue, before Shiroi-san reached out and opened the door with no trouble.

Stepping inside the somewhat dingy room, they found Genshiken and Jiraiya sitting down at a low table, being served tea by a dark-haired woman. Various scrolls were scattered across the table, some only half-filled with intel. Genshiken's hair was down—so Genma had probably dropped the pretense of his act, and was no doubt talking logistics with the Sannin.

The main source of light in the room were the two windows, which showed the long stretch of sky and sea. This meant that the room was in the Eastern most part of Willow Palace—what was essentially the back of the establishment—and closest to the cliff the brothel was built on.

The windows also created two extra exit points. They were closed, and held seals placed on them. There was most likely a seal on the table, buried under the veritable pile of scrolls, to help with privacy. Jiraiya wasn't taking chances.

"Hey, Rai! What a coincidence," Genma drawled, smirking around the senbon in his mouth.

"Good, you're here," the white-haired man said, his previously serious disposition disappearing, replaced with a wide, jovial grin.

There was suddenly a high-pitched crow of "Master!". Raidō swiveled his head, pinpointing the sound. It came from a dog with massive amounts of fluffy black fur, which seemingly popped out from behind Jiraiya's back.

The furry, relatively small dog bounded towards Shiroi-san, its tongue lolling out. It wasn't nearly as small as Epemithiiosu, but would be outclassed in size by most of Kakashi's Summons.

"Hello, _Hermes_ ," Shiroi-san said, voice and eyes soft, as she crouched down and scratched the dog behind the ears. The Hellhound gave a happy yip in response.

 _Herumiisu_ wore a doggy-sized white robe, and a large satchel across its back. Contrasting with the custom-made outfit, the dog had curled horns, and a jagged collar made of bones. However, Raidō still personally considered that it looked much too cute to be some fierce being from Hell.

"It's good you came when you did. I was just about to send him over to you for a status report to bring you here, Shiroi-chan," Jiraiya mused, idly taking a drag from his teacup.

The white-haired woman scoffed. "As if I would ignore such strong chakra signatures suddenly showing up," she said dryly, picking Herumiisu up in her arms and settling down in a space next to her teacher at the table. "They stand out like beacons, in the swarm of civilian signatures."

Raidō went and followed her lead. Genma was sitting across from the white-haired duo, so he sat in the space at the table in between Genma and Shiroi.

Across from the bandage-wearing man was the _oiran_ woman. The server was no doubt a contact of Jiraiya's, if she was in the room while they all talked shop.

She would have to be civilian, since her seat was the most disadvantageous, and yet it didn't bother her. Her back was displayed towards the two windows of the room, open to attack. The others had a better vantage point to view the room's exits, and could defend themselves from enemy action, if necessary.

"Tea?" the dolled-up woman asked demurely to the pair of newcomers.

"Yes, thank you, Ume-san," Shiroi-san said politely. Raidō shook his head, but watched as the woman deftly poured the tea. Ume-san passed the cup to the younger woman—who promptly moved the papers on the table, clearing a small space for her cup, despite Jiraiya's protests.

"Oh, quiet," the pale woman rolled her eyes. "Ume-san's doing her job, and I like tea."

"Amen," Genma said, raising his cup and saluting the hostess, who smiled charmingly.

Shiroi-san then shifted restlessly in her spot, pulling at the folds of her proper kimono with one of her hands. She looked like she was trying to arrange herself in a comfortable way, but eventually just gave up with a huff, and set her Summons down. The dog instantly nestled against her side, on the floor.

"Besides, if I'm going to be giving a long report, and subject myself to more hell with this kimono…Might as well have something to drink, in hand," she said, sighing irately. "And shouldn't we invite the other two in here?" she added, gesturing to the windows with her chin.

The three men's attention instantly went over to the two innocent windows, before they forced their gazes back to the young woman, who was looking at them expectantly.

"Well, I suppose it would make this all go quicker…" Jiraiya mused. He turned to Ume-san. "Can you ready three more cups of your delicious tea? If we need more of your input later, I'll call for you."

"Of course, Jiraiya-sama," the worker nodded, smiling in determination. "Anything to help."

The worker poured three more cups of tea quickly, but with no less amount of finesse as before. She gave a bow to them, before rising. "I will check up on the other girls."

"That would be great," the Sannin replied, looking relieved to have one less thing on his plate. He slipped a wad of ryo in the woman's hand, closing it and around the money and patting it, before letting her leave the room.

Ume-san opened the door, stepped out, bowed, and closed it. After a moment, the corner of the door glowed blue, signifying that the seal on it was active once more.

* * *

"…Master?" the Hellhound piped up curiously after a few stagnant moments, from his perch next to Shiroi-san. The dog's voice was distinct, one of a sunny young man.

"Yes, Herumiisu?" she replied, looking askance at the dog.

The Hellhound cocked his head cutely to the side, nose twitching as he sniffed the air. "Why is there a lightning he-dog just outside the window?"

Genma let out a short spasm of laughter, as everyone in the room turned to look at the window that the Hellhound was facing.

"'Lightning he-dog'…That's actually pretty accurate, for Captain," the senbon-wielder mused, smiling. He idly tapped his teacup in code for 'clear'.

"That's because he's going to help us, Herumiisu," Shiroi-san told the innocent dog, voice tinged with amusement.

Jiraiya heaved himself up on his feet, and strolled over to the second window, peeling off the seal and sliding it open. "Alright, kid," he spoke lazily to seemingly the open air. "Get your partner, and get in here."

The Sannin stepped back, arms crossed loosely in front of his chest. From down at the table, the others waited—Genma and Raidō a bit more tense than the lone female.

A few seconds passed in utter silence—the only sound being the calm waters of the ocean— before there came the distinct ' _whoosh!_ ' of rushing air. It announced the appearance of two mask-wearing figures that deftly entered through the window, crouched down in front of the Sannin.

Genma and Raidō relaxed at seeing the familiar forms of Hound and Wildcat.

"Jiraiya-sama," the two masked ANBU said, heads bowed respectfully to the older shinobi.

The bear of a man gave a snort. "Oh, don't do this **now**. Get up, and take a seat. Go on, now."

The Sannin stepped around the (now standing) ANBU, making shooing motions over at the low table. He closed the window decisively, placing and activating a seal on it once more, while the two Black-Ops slowly and cautiously made their way towards the table.

Hound and Wildcat soundlessly took seats across from Raidō, the Captain seated closer to Jiraiya's temporarily vacated spot.

In the lull of semi-awkward silence—because both Hound and Wildcat weren't much for speaking or social interaction, even off-duty—there came a yip from Herumiisu.

"Master, Master!" the small dog said excitedly, pawing at Shiroi-san's lap, tail wagging. "It's the lighting he-dog! And he has a friend—tree-human pup!"

The young woman bit her lip, trying to hold back laughter. Genma wasn't as reserved or polite, bursting into snickers.

"Well, Herumiisu's pretty on-the-nose," the bandaged man mused, watching as Hound all but puffed up indignantly.

"Yes," the horned dog chirped guilelessly, licking at his hand. "My nose is very good!" Raidō couldn't help but smile down at the Summon, giving a quick scratch behind the curled horns, gaining a pleased grin from the Hellhound.

"Tree…Pup…?" Wildcat muttered under his breath, posture wilting, triggering Genma to loudly snigger, and for Jiraiya to give a jovial laugh.

Shiroi-san brought a sleeve up to cover her mouth. "I hope you don't take offense to Herumiisu," she said, loud enough to be heard around her sleeve. "He's very… _open_ , and has a unique way to describe things."

"It is fine," Hound-taichou replied, while Tenzō sulked silently. Sulking silently was a specialty of his.

The white-haired woman sets her elbows on the table, leaning forwards, attention fully on the captain. The smile she gives Hound is surprisingly genuine, with a bit of softness that Raidō thought was only reserved for those she was particularly close to, like her Hellhounds.

"It's good to see you again, Kakashi-san," she tells the ANBU captain warmly. "It's been a while. More than four years, hasn't it?"

Hound stills, body tense.

The rest of the squad stills as well, staring blatantly over at Shiroi-san.

There's a few seconds delay, before Jiraiya starts to cackle.

"…What?" the young woman asks, frowning in confusion. She throws a glare over at the white-haired ninja, when he starts to slap his hand against his knee. " **Why** are you laughing? Are you going senile, old man?"

Raidō couldn't help but cough in surprise at how casually disrespectful Shiroi-san was against one of the legendary Sannin. It definitely spoke of familiarity with the man.

"It's just…" Raidō started, when the Sannin didn't look to unable to give his student an explanation. "You're not supposed to blatantly out an ANBU's identity, even if you know it…"

"But that was the first damn thing you did," the white-haired man said fondly, wiping the stray tear from his eye. "Because of _course_ you would."

The bear of a man reached out, ruffling the young woman's hair. She gave a huff, batting his hand away.

"Well…Forgive me," she eventually said, voice laced with heavy awkwardness. Pink slowly bloomed on her pale cheeks. "I suppose I got…excited."

Hound-taichou was silent for a few more moments. He slowly reached up, and undid the clasps on his porcelain mask, cradling it in his glove-clad hand, before speaking stiffly. "I will forgive you. I shouldn't have forgotten that your sensor capabilities were so advanced, and your memory so accurate."

"In Kakashi-speak, that's probably the equivalent of a proclamation of love," Genma drawled, smirking. Kakashi gave a strangled sound, like that of a cat being thrown in a river, and not-so-discreetly kicked Genma under the table. The silver-haired teen was firing a potent glare at the senbon-wielder.

"Yeah, that was quite a bit of expert smooth-talking. Are you trying to court Shiroi-chan, Kakashi?" Jiraiya teased, with a wide grin, voice thick with a fervent glee that was on par with a parent wanting to embarrass their child to death.

Kakashi's uncovered eye widened. Shiroi-san rolled her eyes and whacked the aging man on the back of his head, her pale complexion firmly pink. "Stop making this needlessly perverted."

"Hey—he started it!" the Sannin whined, jabbing a finger at a snickering Genma.

"And I'm **ending** it," she sniped, rubbing at her temple. "Even if I hadn't identified Kakashi by his chakra signature, I could've still easily done it."

"How so?" Raidō asked, curious. Sensing seemed to be Shiroi-san's specialty. Did she have another skill up her sleeve…?

"Kakashi-human smells like lightning and he-dog. Is that how, Master?" Herumiisu asked, raising his head to peer up from his previous lying-down position. Before, the dog had been oddly quiet, simply following the conversation with a bemused air, like a child that didn't understand big words adults used when talking to each other.

"Despite being your Summoner—no. My sense of smell isn't good enough for that," the woman replied, giving an amused huff as she scratched the Hellhound behind his ears. "Although, that's a good guess."

"Shiroi-san's Bingo Book entry is not very detailed," Wildcat spoke up quietly. "I assume there is another important information-gathering skill she has in her disposal."

She spared a quick, surprised look over at Wildcat, before shaking her head. "Not particularly. It's just…" she trailed off, gesturing at her head as she spoke to Kakashi. "Well. Your hair. You should really do something about it. It's a pretty obvious indicator, when distinguishing you."

A few beats of baffled silence followed her proclamation. Kakashi slowly buried his face in his hands, no doubt mortified—rather obvious from the red tips of his ears that poked out of his spiky shock of hair.

And then, quite suddenly, Genma broke out into laughter. "I told you…That your hair… would give you away, earlier…! Ahaha!"

When Genma didn't stop laughing after a few moments, (although, really, it was charitable to even give a few moments, when it could have simply been cut off right after it started) Kakashi detached a hand and started to smack him blindly, the other hand still covering his face in shame.

Really, it spoke volumes that no one in the squad seemed surprised at this break in conduct. For how elite and professional their squad was, for how strict Kakashi was as a leader, they really **did** just act like a fresh-faced Genin squad sometimes…

"I mean—I'm sure a quick genjutsu or a hood would fix that right up," Shiroi-san spoke up eventually, seemingly trying to help alleviate the embarrassment she accidentally caused the silver-haired teen. "I used to wear a hooded cloak, and that worked for a while…"

"It is part of conduct, for ANBU to wear their cloaks while still within the village, unless given orders otherwise. It hides distinguishing features like hair, body shape, and weapons," Wildcat said, in an even tone. As if he was reciting straight from the (unofficial and totally non-existent) handbook that all ANBU's had to memorize, before subsequently destroying, to hide the evidence of a handbook ever existing in the first place.

(Which, knowing how Tenzō was…reciting the unofficial ANBU handbook was something he would totally do.)

"And we were…ahaha…wearing the cloaks earlier…" Genma wheezed, countering all of Kakashi's blind head-slaps.

"Oh," Shiroi-san stated blankly, looking at a loss for anything else to say.

"A constant genjutsu would slowly leech chakra, be hard to maintain for prolonged periods of time, and would be a beacon to all sensors," Raidō told the pale-haired female, offering another explanation.

"Not with good control," Shiroi-san muttered under her breath, and Jiraiya gave an amused snort.

"One of the first lessons Shiroi-chan learned about undercover missions and disguises was the pros and cons of genjutsu," the Sannin said, smirking behind his teacup. "Maybe she should give you pointers, Kakashi!"

"Stop trying to set us up," the pale-haired woman scoffed, rolling her fake-blue eyes. "You stupid, meddling old man. I know you—you farm any interactions between me and a person of appropriate age and attractiveness as material for your horribly-written books."

"They're **not** horribly-written!" Jiraiya exclaimed, slapping a hand against the table, causing the cups perched upon it to rattle and the hot tea to slosh. Yet, the movement was not jarring enough to spill any of the tea, or cause the ninjas to twitch; which honestly takes quite a bit of skill. "Icha Icha Paradise and Icha Icha Travels are already best-sellers…!"

"Yes, because I have to edit in things like—oh, _I don't know_ — **spelling** and **grammar** and **punctuation** into them," Shiroi-san rebuffed, quickly shielding Herumiisu's perked-up ears with her hands. "Plus, editing out all of your shitty ideas—"

"That lesbian three-way in the bathhouse was a **great** idea, damn it—"

"It was unrealistic, had the cheesiest and most cringe-worthy dialogue imaginable, and completely **ruined** the previous pace and flow of the story," the young woman said, taking up a chiding tone fit more for a mother scolding her child. "It's also rude to include homosexual characters—"

"To just sexualize them and use them as fodder. Yeah, yeah, yeah," the Sannin said, waving a hand, rolling his eyes dramatically. From the relaxed body language and over-suffering tones, the teacher and student were going through the motions of an already well-debated argument, just for the sake of it. "Honestly, your additions to my books aren't any better—"

"Like **hell** they aren't," Shiroi-san scoffed, offended. "Let me remind you that Icha Icha Travels nearly **doubled** your revenue, and had a slew of positive reviews because of that gay love-interest subplot I made you introduce—"

The debate would have gone on longer, no doubt—as well as the ANBU members essentially following it all the while like a particularly riveting ping-pong match, with mounting speechlessness—but one of said Black-Ops members actually spoke up.

"Wait a minute. Hold on," Genma suddenly interjected, raising a hand in a halting motion, looking between the white-haired duo. "Shiroi, are you saying that the entire thing with Hideshi in Travels was because of you…? 'Cuz, shit, that scene where he kisses Junichi was probably the best plot twist I've ever read."

The other ANBU turned to look incredulously at the bright-eyed senbon-wielder.

The young woman, meanwhile, gave a smug look at her mentor. "See? I **told** you my subplot with Hideshi was good. Even Senbon-san agrees with me." She turned her gaze to Genma, giving a slight grin. "I like you, Senbon-san. You've got good taste."

"Call me Genma," he chuckled. "And, really, I think Travels is my favorite book because of you."

The two high-fived over the table, and the world seemed to tip slightly on its axis from the absurdity of not only the turn of conversation, but the fact that such an aloof young woman was high-fiving Raidō's kind-of-maybe boyfriend over gay subplots in porn. Porn that she apparently helped edit and write.

(Honestly, life made **much** more sense three days ago, before all of… _this_ …started happening. It only really started to spiral out of control, when they got to Tea.

Actually, Raidō's fairly sure that it was going pear-shaped when he met Shiroi-san in her disguise…)

"You…You're…Editor Mashiro-chan," Kakashi said weakly, after a few splutters, his lone eye looking as wide as a dinner plate.

Shiroi-san was silent for a few heartbeats. "Yes." She shot a glare over at Jiraiya, speaking directly to the white-haired man. "And I **still** can't believe that you couldn't think of a more creative pseudonym for me to take, as one of your editors. I wanted **anonymity** , not for anyone with half a brain to figure it out..."

The Sannin shrugged his large shoulders, giving a bright smile that was obviously made for maximum irritation to his protégé. "Well, I was already using 'Anko' for the character that cropped up, that was based on your likeness. Should've thought of another alias, Shiroi-chan!"

"As if I already don't go under enough nicknames and personas as it is," the young woman groused. She began to rub Herumiisu's side—either to let out her irritation into something more productive, or as a way to sooth her aggravation. Petting the dog's fur seemed like a rather fun activity in of itself; the Summon was also enjoying the attention.

Genma slyly shot a glance at the still wide-eyed Kakashi. "So, Kakashi…You going to fill out the marriage papers, after you get her to sign your books?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," the silver-haired teen hissed, trying for an even tone, and failing. It was hard to read expressions under Kakashi's cloth mask, but the dips in the fabric told that the teen was gaping. The flush creeping into his ears signaled embarrassment. The furrowed brow and squinted eye was the penchant slant for venomous glaring.

The glaring didn't seem to deter Genma or Jiraiya from further ribbing. Rather, it seemed to fuel it.

"I think he meant those two mint-condition, first edition copies signed straight from me that you have," Jiraiya intoned smarmily, winking.

"Unless you were thinking of something else," the brunette said cheekily, giving a pointed waggle of his eyebrows.

Kakashi proceeded to choke on his spit for a few heartbeats. "I…have only cracked them open **once**. Just so _certain persons_ would stop badgering me," he finally said weakly, gaze engrossed in the teacup in front of him. Wildcat's face was turned squarely towards the captain, and Raidō was fairly sure that the younger boy was staring at Kakashi in disbelief.

(Jiraiya could be blamed for the occurrence of Kakashi uncharacteristically reading adult novels, as well as peer pressure. But, really, there was also the issue of hormones.

Give a hormone-ridden teenager access to porn, and more often than not, that teenager is going to look at it. Even if it's just a peek, to see what all the fuss is about. And it seems like Kakashi, despite all his incredibly unhealthy emotional repression…fell for the siren song, like many other teenagers before him.)

"You'd have to do more than 'crack them open' to know the exact pseudonym of one of my editors," the Sannin said gleefully, his voice nearing singsong.

"I'm sure his favorite 'skimmed-over' sections were about the fair and beautiful Anko-hime," Genma stage-whispered to the Sannin. Jiraiya gave a lecherous giggle that sounded disturbingly like that of a young child. Genma's snickering was cut off by the young ANBU Captain swiftly stuffing a dry ration bar down his throat.

Raidō kept himself from palming his face, but barely. Across from him, Wildcat looked rather longsuffering, despite still wearing his porcelain mask that hid his expression. Really, it was all in the body language.

"Awwwww, taichou!" came the garbled whine, as Genma choked around both the tasteless ration bar, and the senbon still balanced in his mouth.

"I think we've gone wildly off-topic," Raidō finally spoke up, his statement a touch dry. He idly handed his teacup to Genma, allowing the other man to swig down the liquid to clear his throat and taste palette.

"Yeah. As amusing as this is, I'm sure we can catch up properly at a later date," the Sannin noted bemusedly, leaning back to lounge in a different position. "And Shiroi-chan will then have all the time she wants to grill you all over your entire life stories, like she's no doubt dying to do."

The deadpanned look the woman shot Jiraiya was mitigated slightly by the flush in her cheeks. "Right," she drawled, voice dry as a desert. "Later, I'll be sure to give you a list of reasons on why adult literature isn't an appropriate gift for an underaged teenager, Jiraiya-sama. **Again**."

Honestly, it shouldn't be a surprise that there **was** an 'again', nor that Jiraiya gave his adult novels as gifts, no matter the age of the recipients.

Despite still seeming embarrassed, Kakashi's body tensed, and he opened his mouth in affront. Probably to say something along the lines that _nothing could be too mature for someone with his amount of genius_ , and dig himself deeper in the proverbial grave.

But despite his lack of people skills and emotional constipation, the silver-haired Jonin was still smart enough to keep quiet so that the conversation would not get derailed even further. It also saved himself from being teased. Two enemies, one jutsu.

"Master, I am still confused," Herumiisu spoke guilelessly. Once more, the Hellhound had staid silent, lost in the conversation of things that no doubt didn't interest him.

"It's okay, Herumiisu," Shiroi-san said quickly. Her countenance seemed to transform, as she smiled down slightly at the dog, her voice holding a tone like a schoolteacher speaking with a student. "I'm sorry for putting you through all this talking, without giving you a task. Can you pop down to the Archives in your realm, and bring back the important reports over this trip, that I had you store before…?"

"Yes! I can do that!" the Hellhound exclaimed, jumping up into a standing position, his tail furiously wagging.

In a burst of flames—causing all the ANBU to instantly ready a weapon in defense—the Hellhound disappeared.

Kakashi gave a strong exhale through his nose. "Sulfur…?" he muttered, sounding mildly perplexed. "As well as ashes and…lava?"

Shiroi-san gave a slow blink. "You can smell all that, when he Summoned himself back to the Hellhound Caverns?" she asked, intrigued.

"I have a better sense of smell than most," the silver-haired ninja replied simply. He sheathed his tanto, and the others put their weapons back as well. Except for Genma, who had spat his senbon at where the Summons had been. He sheepishly took the item back from Shiroi-san, who simply raised a thin eyebrow at him.

* * *

"I suppose all of you have some background knowledge on Yaseru Yanagi, right…?" Jiraiya asked after a pause, his countenance shifting subtly into something more readily commanding.

The ANBU squad nodded in-unison, straightening in their seats, all wearing their professional masks of curt seriousness.

"Good. That gives us less to explain," the Sannin noted appreciatively, taking a drink of his tea. When he quietly set the cup down, he turned his gaze to his protégé that sat besides him.

"Shiroi managed to get her hands on a lot of important reports, from Yanagi's very office," the white-haired man informed the squad. "The both of us have also questioned as many workers as we were able, but I believe she has a better grasp on the details."

"The statistics I found out were…concerning," the young woman agreed, voice low, mouth tightened into a thin line.

The tense atmosphere was interrupted by a burst of flames, signaling the reappearance of the Hellhound messenger. The ANBU all drew their weapons with a twitch, but they discreetly slipped them back in place after another moment.

The Summons was bogged down with a bag clamped in its jaws, the pack on its back bulging as well.

"You managed to get all of it in one trip…?" Shiroi-san asked, seeming a bit impressed at the feat, relieving the Hellhound of the bag in its mouth.

"Mrs. _Athena_ and Elder _Persephone_ helped me!" Herumiisu yipped sunnily.

Again, with the very odd names…Most likely other Hellhounds, then. Did **all** Hellhounds hold odd, hard-to-pronounce names?

"Well, _Atsiina_ all but lives in the Archives," the woman noted bemused, tone a touch dry, as she unloaded the pack on the dog's back. "It was nice of them to help you. Thank you for your hard work, Herumiisu."

"Anything for Master!" the Summons chirped in reply, giving a quick lick of her hand, looking rather proud to receive praise from his Summoner.

"Jiraiya-sama, please treat him," Shiroi-san said, waving a hand vaguely over at her teacher, as she riffled through the bags of paper reports.

The Hellhound instantly turned his attention over to the Sannin, giving the man a potent dose of puppy-dog eyes.

"You spoil your Summons too much, Shiroi-chan. They're going to get fat, at this rate," Jiraiya mused, riffling through a pocket and producing some form of treat for the dog.

"I'm simply rewarding them for their good work," she sniped defensively, in reply. Her pale complexion flushed, her eyes firmly planted on the reports in her hands that she was shuffling around, seemingly organizing. "They work it off through training."

There came a soft snort. Raidō turned his attention to the source in mild surprise. Kakashi was shaking his head slightly, incredulous at the young woman's coddling of her Summons.

Right. Kakashi was a bit of an expert, when it came to raising dog Summons.

"It's the stick and carrot method," Shiroi-san stated to the air, gaze only momentarily flickering up to Kakashi while she created stacks from the papers in her hands. "Good things should be rewarded."

"'Rewarding' them too much makes them soft," the silver-haired ninja refuted in a drawl.

"Not doing so enough can make them attention-starved."

Ouch. Raidō barely held back a wince. That was a bit…harsh. It was like a double-blow on how hard Kakashi drove his ninken, and of how he isolated himself.

If this was a match of who could burn the other through sheer force of words, then Shiroi-san just won.

An awkward, tense silence fell upon the room. Which seemed to be some sort of Thing that kept happening every time Shiroi-san and Kakashi interacted, it seems. The other occupants looked warily between the two light-haired teenagers.

"Well, uh," Jiraiya-sama coughed. "Shiroi-chan can smother her Summons, but she does it so the Hellhounds can get used to having a Summoner again."

"Again?" Genma asked, perking up.

"They haven't had one for a few decades," the young woman said quietly. "Their contract had been last used by the Samsara Clan, from Uzushiogakure."

If the atmosphere already hadn't been tense and awkward, the feeling just intensified.

Kushina Uzumaki was a close, dear friend to most of them, and being unable to help Whirlpool in the Second Shinobi World War was considered one of the greatest regrets and tragedies of the Leaf.

Herumiisu gave a low, sad whine at the mention of the Samsara Clan, understanding the unspoken words that Uzushio and the Samsara were long gone.

"So…" Jiraiya trailed off, looking somewhat pained, but trying to hide it through a weak show of bravado. "I guess I'll also add 'will kill the mood' to the list of similarities you share with Kakashi, then."

Without even looking up, the young woman whacked the Sannin's chest with the back of her hand, taking up a nearby form off the low table while she was at it.

"The way you've 'organized' things on the table is going to make this a pain, Jiraiya-sama. But I'll suppose it'll have to do," she huffed out a sigh.

Shiroi-san set down some of the stacks on certain parts of the table carefully. As she straightened her back, readying herself to start her report, she paused.

"Herumiisu…You may go back to your realm, to rest," she told her Summons softly, running a hand over his side gently.

The Hellhound still seemed uncharacteristically morose, as he nodded his head. "Yes, Master." Even the dog's high-pitched voice was subdued.

When the Summons disappeared in fire and flecks of brimstone, the ANBU didn't even move for their weapons, simply giving a unified twitch.

"Alright, boys," Shiroi-san drawled, carefully spreading her hands on the table, looking at those sitting around her. "Let's talk logistics."

* * *

Chapter notes:

[Ages: Shiroi is 19. Kakashi is 17, Genma is 20, Raidō is 22, Tenzō is 14/15.]

This arc is getting surprisingly long. My hands have slipped off the slippery slope, at this point. Whoops?

There will definitely be a part three to this Masks/Tea Arc, that will wrap things up. It'll go over the information our favorite white-haired pair have over this fishy brothel, a rescue effort that involves killing corrupt politicians, and we'll be introduced to a kid Karin.

A surprising number of you reviewers replied to my challenge last chapter to guess who the red-haired woman could be. A lot of you were right; she's related to Karin. Karou is Karin's mother! An internet cookie to all that guessed correctly.

In canon, Karin's mother died unnamed, while Karin was young. They were seeking refuge in Grass. But naturally, Shiroi's involvement is shaking things up. _Any theories on what will happen to this mother-daughter duo in the future…?_

* * *

Reply to reviews:

To _Guest_ on Chapter 7: Mei is a bae, and she'll get another chapter in the future...Just not sure when.

Reply to _as_ : Thank you so much for the praise! I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter.

Reply to _Guest_ (numero uno) on _Chapter 15_ : The scars did, in fact, come from the Uzumaki healing bite. You were close with your guess, but it's actually Karin's Mom.

Reply to _Guest_ on Chapter 13: Thank you! Yes, that was a One Piece reference. A lot of reviewers caught it. And quite a few asked me why Sanji let Shiroi cook.

Well, this isn't exactly the One Piece crew, just an alternate universe version of them. Maybe alternate-Sanji was just really damn tired. Maybe he doesn't even like cooking, but can make the food of the gods anyways, so he's the de-facto chef of the crew. It's up to interpretation.

Reply to _Bless You_ : No, bless **you**! You're honestly too sweet. :')

Reply to _Guest_ (number two) on Chapter 15: I'm glad you think this fic is amazing!


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